Walls
by smalld1171
Summary: Dean has always kept the walls around him firmly in place. What happens when those walls start to crumble after a seemingly routine hunt?  Can Sam save his brother from himself? **Final Chapter Up**
1. Chapter 1

**Hi all. This is my first Supernatural fanfiction and hopefully it won't be the worst story ever. I of course do not own ****anything associated to SPN, just wanted to see where my imagination takes the boys! I hope you enjoy!**

Sam stands with his brother looking into yet another open coffin engulfed in flames in yet another ramshackle cemetery in yet another small town in somewhere U.S.A. Another vengeful spirit, another successful hunt, another town saved, another battle where Dean is left battered and bruised.

He chances a glance over to his left, quietly taking in the state of his brother. Thankful that Dean still seems to be concentrating on the fire and not feeling his stare, the youngest Winchester takes a moment to inventory his brother's latest battle scars. Head...bleeding. Face...bruising. Right hand...wrapped around his waist. Left hand...gripping the headstone so tight his knuckles are white. Field evaluation done, Sam decides it's time to go so he can get a better look at his big brother back at the motel.

"Dean?"

No response, eyes still staring into the fire.

"Dean, you OK, man?"

A flinch, a blink, another blink.

"I'm fine Sammy, just enjoying the campfire for a minute. Got any marshmellows?"

There's the smirk and Sam knows Dean is busy getting his walls built back up to hide the pain he's in. Gotta get going now.

"Not on me but I think I left a stash back at the motel... which is where we should be headin'."

No acknowledgment, just staring into the fire.

"We should start bringin' mellows on our hunts. I love mellows, charred...burning...burnt."

Definiteley not okay. Concussion maybe?

"Oh..kay but not today. Time to go."

"Gotta make sure it's dead. Gotta make sure it stays dead. Gotta make sure it doesn't hurt anyone else. Gotta make sure."

This is going to be harder than he thought. He hates to pull out the 'Sammy' card but he needs to get Dean back to the motel to have a good look at him.

"It's dead Dean, not gonna hurt anyone else. Salted, burned, taken care of. But me, I am feelin' really burnt out and in need of some rest. We've been on our feet all day, tracking, hunting and if I don't get to rest soon I might just collapse."

Sam is startled at the quickness in which his brother turns towards him. Not lost on him however is the fact that if Dean hadn't been gripping the headstone he was pretty sure he would have done a face plant right then and there. What did he see in Dean's eyes? Panic? Oh, that is just not good.

"You okay Sammy? Are you hurt? Did it get you? Why didn't you tell me? What did it do to you? I'm sorry, I didn't notice, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling okay?"

Definitely not pulling out the Sammy card again anytime soon. That had been a bad idea. Dean was busy looking into Sam's eyes, looking him over, trying to find the wounds that he thought he'd missed, that he didn't notice, that he didn't bother to check for earlier. Wild eyes searched and searched until Sam reached out a hand to his brother's shoulder and squeezed.

"Dean! Look, calm down, I am fine. No wounds, you didn't miss anything. I am just tired, that's all."

Sam looked directly into Dean's eyes, willing him to look into his. When their eyes locked, he hoped he had him.

"I think you and I both need to get some rest. I think you and I both need to get back to the motel, clean ourselves up and relax. Understand what I am saying to you?"

A blink. Another blink. A slight tilt of the head.

"Of course I understand what you are saying to me! God Sam, I am not an idiot you know!"

Sam notices the wince that accompanies his brother's outburst and figures that his head must really be pounding. Biting back the urge within him to confront Dean on the pain he knows he is in, on how he is acting kinda strange, and how he knows he isn't fine, Sam opts to leave it alone. All that would accomplish would be Dean's usual lines about how he is fine and that he is acting like he always acts..and so on... and so on. And, Sam really wanted nothing more than to get to the car, get outta this damn cemetery, get back to the motel and try and figure out what is going on with his brother. And, right now, the gettin' seems as good as it will ever get.

**TBC...**

**Well, that's it for the first chapter. Thanks to any and all who decide to give this story a read. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again all... thanks for the lovely comments/reviews for Chapter 1, I must say I am pleasantly surprised and motivated to continue. Here is Chapter #2, I hope you enjoy this one! Thanks again!**

"Let's get outta here Sam, I think we need to get outta here."

Sam feels relieved that it's Dean taking the lead on leaving although the sound of his voice is odd...scared? Well, he won't worry about that now, he was just glad he wouldn't have to grab his brother to get him moving.

"Sure, sounds like a plan. You go ahead, I'll grab our gear and be right behind you."

As Sam walks off to get their bags, thankfully within a few steps reach, he keeps an eye on Dean as he pushes himself off from the headstone, sways slightly, quickly regains his balance, takes one step forward and stops. Sam's face crinkles with concern as he sees his brother close his eyes and bring his left hand up to his face, briefly rubbing at his eyes, while his right arm still drapes across his gut. Dean shakes his head and takes another tentative step. It's agonizing to watch the grimace appear on the face of his older brother with each movement he makes but knowing how stubborn his brother can be he doesn't comment on that. But, then again, maybe a little comment won't hurt.

"Okay, got our stuff. Are you doing alright, I thought you'd be at the car already."

"Well, didn't want to leave you alone out here, I know how scared of the dark you are Sammy. Don't worry, big brother is here, I won't let anything happen to you. Plus, I'm not sure but I think maybe I am not feeling 100%. My head is starting to ache. Did something happen to my head?"

Okay, now Sam feels like he is officially worried. First things first, get to the car.

"Let's get goin' and I'll tell ya all about that hard head of yours on the way back to the motel. Deal?"

Dean is looking at him with a blank stare now, glassy green eyes boring into Sam's. Sam decides that whatever is going on in Dean's head can't be good. He needs to get him the frick out of here, why are they still standing there? Just as he is about to say something to get them moving, Dean starts talking, his voice starting off in barely a whisper.

"No, no more deals, they always lead to bad things. Always. Nothing good can ever come from a deal. They are bad. Don't make any deals okay Sammy? Whatever you do, don't make any deals. Trust me, they are bad. You will hurt. You will burn. You will turn into a monster. Sammy, promise me you won't make any deals! Promise me!"

Sam feels the sting of tears threatening to fall, a rush of memories invading his senses. He pictures Dean laying on the floor dead, after the hellhound was finished with him. He feels the pain radiating off of Dean when he finally confides to his younger brother the memories of his time in Hell. He feels that same pain coming from his brother right now, and instinctively reaches out to his older sibling, hoping that a touch will bring him back to the here and now. Hand on Dean's shoulder, he searches for his eyes and when he knows his brother is looking at him he speaks in a soft and what he hopes is a comforting tone.

"I promise Dean. We really need to get out of here now okay? Are you with me bro?"

"Yeah... yeah... always with you Sammy... always."

"Good. Now please, let's get to the car okay? You look like your head is really hurting, do you need me to help you get to the car?"

And there it was. Sam's moment of weakness, thinking that since it was Dean who brought up the fact that he isn't 100% gave him the right to offer his help. Sam just never learns, that sort of thing has to be initiated by his big brother, whose face is now sporting a very, very, ugly shade of red...of rage...mixed in with blood and bruises. Sam holds his breath and waits, and it isn't long before he is facing his brother's verbal wrath.

"Jesus Sam, I am not a child! I can make it to the god damned car myself! I don't need any help from you, little brother! I have always had to rely on myself, never asking for help, never expecting any and sure the hell not deserving any! So just try to keep up, I will meet you at the car!"

Not deserving any? Sam feels suddenly helpless and lost in his own thoughts as he stares at his brother's back while he storms away. Well, maybe storms isn't the right word as Dean continues to clutch his side, and looks more like a man heading out from the nearest watering hole after drowning his sorrows as he weaves back and forth on unsteady legs. Sam quickly catches up, but lingers just far enough behind Dean so that he can react quickly when the inevitable stumble comes. He can hear grunts and moans and the occassional swear and wonders at the amazing ability adrenaline can have on someone who just moments ago could barely stay on their feet. Boy, what a stubborn ass.

Sam didn't have to wait long for his brother's adrenaline rush to come crashing to a halt. His strong hands move instantly when he sees Dean's right leg give out under his weight. Grabbing him by the shoulders he keeps his brother upright and circles around to see his face. Not red anymore, more of a sickly mixture of grey and green, accented by a thin layer of sweat. Sam lightly touches his brother's face and of course he feels hot. He shouldn't be surprised that his brother is now coming down with a fever, what with the combination of his head being batted around, and what are definitely at least bruised ribs. So, a fever on top of everything else? Great, just great. Frickin' figures.

And then Sam wonders, are we ever going to make it to the car?

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone! Time for Chapter #3. Thanks again for those taking the time to have a look at this story, I truly appreciate it.**

"Dean? Dean, c'mon man, can you hear me?"

Sam watches as his brother tilts his head up, eyes roaming around, searching for the voice he just heard. His eyes are unfocussed and Sam is pretty sure they aren't really seeing.

"I'm right here Dean, focus on me, focus on my voice. Look at me."

His older brother blinks his eyes slowing a few times, closes them and gives his head the slightest of shakes. When he opens them once again Sam thinks he can see a flicker of clarity within them.

"S'my? Did somthin happen? Wha? What's goin on? You ok? Dad ok?" "I don't feel so good."

Sam pretends he doesn't hear the reference to dad. Not a good topic on the best of days, let alone on what is shaping up to be a weird and emotionally draining kinda day.

"I'm fine Dean, it's you who has your baby brother a little worried."

Seeing the utter confusion flash across his brother's face, Sam decides to take full advantage of Dean's momentary weakness and get him to the car once and for all.

"Hey, Dean, you trust me right?"

A nod.

"Okay, so I am going to help you up, and we are walking over to the car together and then driving back to the motel. Ready?"

Another nod.

Not wasting any more time, Sam raises Dean up from his left side and almost stumbles when he instantly feels most of Dean's weight transfer over to him. Once he has an as good as can be expected hold of his sibling, Sam sets off, big brother in tow, without saying a word. As the two Winchesters proceed across the cemetery grounds, the only sounds making it to Sam's ears are those of boots scratching across dirt and the laboured breaths eminating from Dean. He senses that his brother is on the verge of collapse or exhaustion and hopes his brother's body doesn't give out until they are at least a bit closer to the car. Sam manages to keep himself and Dean moving, not at a lightning pace, but moving. The brothers continue to walk in silence until Sam feels his brother slowing and slowing.

"Almost there Dean, just a few more feet. One step at a time, you can do it. You don't want me to have to carry you right? Somehow I don't think I would be able to let you live that down for a few months or years."

Dean doesn't respond in words but starts up again at a better pace and even though Sam has no idea what all this stress is doing to his brother's body, he can't help but smile softly and feel thankful that he knows the right buttons to push to motivate his brother. And that smile grows into a full blown grin when he finally sees the familiar shape of the Impala coming into view, getting closer and closer with each step. What do you know, he is actually happy to see it and thinks he could even stand putting in one of the cassette tapes that Dean loves so much. Finally, the two siblings are at the car and Sam lets out a well deserved sigh. He leans Dean carefully against the passenger side and allows himself a moment to take a few steady and calming breaths and hopes that his brother is able to get a moment or two of rest as well. Okay, break is over.

"Whew, that was quite a trip big brother. Now, just hand over the keys and we can get the hell out of Dodge."

Sam holds his hand out for the keys but when Dean makes no attempt to give them up he glances over and studies his brother's profile a bit closer. Hmmm... is that a smirk Sam sees ghost across Dean's face? And, was that a snort he just heard? The older Winchester turns to face his younger brother and Sam cringes slightly as he notices that the far away look Dean had plastered on his face earlier has returned with a vengence. Just what the hell is happening?

"Why would I have the keys Sammy? Since when exactly does dad let anyone else but himself hold on to them? Let alone me, his no good for nothing son? That's a good one, very funny!"

Okay, that is frickin enough already!

Sam feels his threshold of tolerance start to break, can feel his worry turn to disbelief and is pretty sure that if there had been a mirror close by he would of seen his jaw literally scraping the ground. He practically lunges at his brother, ignoring the jumbled words Dean mutters at him about not swinging that way...about personal space... He targets one pocket, nothing. The other pocket however yields the prize and as he pulls out his hand, his mouth turns into a huge, cheshire cat kinda grin. He can't help but hold the keys in question triumphantly in the air and even decides to give them a good shake to emphasize his victory. Take that Dean! Still smiling, he glares at Dean and makes a declaration.

"Okay Dean, got the keys, now get your ass in the car! We are officially leaving! Now!"

Sam opens up the passenger door, and waits... and waits... and impatiently waits for his brother to get in. He wants to scream, wants to tell Dean to hurry up, move faster, to stop being such a stubborn ass and just get the frick in the car already! What is this, brain surgery? We are so close!

Oh no. What was that? What is Dean doing? Oh great, it sounds like he is what...chuckling? Shit. Chuckling plus Dean plus fever plus who knows what the hell else is going on can only equal one thing. Bad News.

"Sammy. Sam. Dad is gonna frickin FREAK when he gets here and sees you with those keys! God, I wish I had some popcorn because this my friend, this is going to be one hell of a show!"

And then Sam thinks the Impala might as well be 20 miles away.

**TBC..**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone, here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy! :)**

Sam lets out the biggest sigh EVER and feels his breath quicken and his panic reach a new level. Okay, Sam. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't freak out now when you brother so obviously needs you. As he calms himself Sam's mind replays over and over what has happened in such a short period of time. He finds it all so very hard to keep up with. Dad. Hell. Burning marshmellows? It's almost too much. But as he churns the days events over in his mind he thinks about how he is feeling, the confusion of it all, and if he is feeling this way just how confused and out of sorts is his brother feeling? After everything that Dean has done for him, for their dad, for so many people in so many places and facing so many evils so others don't have to, how can Sam even consider giving in to his own emotions when his brother is hurting so badly. As his composure returns, Sam looks into his brother's eyes once more.

"Dad isn't here Dean. It's just the two of us, we came on this hunt alone remember? Please, just get in the car for me so we can call it a night okay?"

A blink. Another blink.

"Oh...just...okay. I guess I forgot."

As Dean's gaze lowers to the ground under his feet and as he mutters away, half to himself, half to Sam, the youngest Winchester unlocks the door to the Impala and carefully ushers his brother inside. Once Dean is safely inside, still lost in his own thoughts, still muttering softly to himself, Sam jogs around to the driver's side, hops in and closes the door. He notices the flinch it causes throughout Dean's body and half expects to be scolded to be more gentle with his baby. He actually finds himself wishing that he would get one of his brother's lectures but the words keep on droning from his brother's lips. Only catching a 'dad' here and a 'dead' there and a 'burning' here, Sam stops and listens, really listens to what his brother is saying. The phrases that he hears making their way out of his brother's mouth shake him to his very core.

"Yeah... I forgot... Right... Right... I forgot."

"Dad's dead Sammy. He's dead isn't he? Dead and gone. But, no... not gone. Dead, and burning... dead, but still burning. How could I forget? Dead. He's dead. Right. Dead, and screaming. Dead. Right...that's right. I killed him."

No sooner are the words out of Dean's mouth than Sam starts the car and speeds off, throwing dust and debris in all directions behind him. He feels the tears flowing freely now and angrily wipes them away from his face. God, it's like Dean is reliving every single bad thing he's experienced over the past few years all at once. No, not bad things, that doesn't do it justice. More like experiencing the worst, soul crushing, heart destroying things that no one should ever, ever go through. Sam feels like his heart is being ripped right out of his chest. He wants to say something, anything to his brother to get him out of the darkness that is consuming him. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs, at Dean, at his dad, at himself for not realizing just exactly what kind of toll this life has taken on the most important person in the world to him. He wants to look over at his older brother, to reach out to him, to tell him everything is okay and that he just needs to get some rest and it will all be better. But, knowing he is having a hard time believing that load of crap himself, he decides the best thing to do at the moment is to ride on in silence.

As he stares through the window, gaze fixed on the road ahead, Sam's grip on the wheel tightens and tightens as he tries to use it as some kind of emotional anchor. He thinks about the hunt, about the way Dean had once again placed himself betwen him and another spirit bent on exacting a little revenge. He remembers his older brother actually egging the thing on, purposely giving the younger of the two some much needed time to get to the task of salting and burning. Of Dean, daring it to come after him, willing it to focus only on him and him alone. Sam is sure he had heard words like 'ugly bitch' and 'die already' spouted like venom at the creature. He recalls hearing a loud 'whack' followed immediately by a painful moan, again followed by some rather colorful adjectives, as his brother's body and head connect with something solid. Probably a headstone Sam muses, what is it with Dean and those freakin headstones?

Coming out of his thoughts for a moment, Sam checks on his brother. Okay, he's not talking anymore, just kinda staring off out the window. Doing okay for now. Eyes back to the road, his thoughts return to the hunt.

Things had gone a bit bad at that point. His usually cocky and self-assured kickass older brother sounded anything but as he heard him call out. "C'mon Sam. Gotta hurry Sammy." San had sensed it was about to be his turn to get up close and personal with this particular spirit, and, expecting a painful confirmation of that at any moment, he felt surprised when he heard his brother's smug and cocky tone return. "Leave me brother alone you undead son of a bitch!" It was like music to Sam's ears. He chanced a look up from his work then to see his brother's comment had stopped the creature just as it had set its sights on the younger Winchester. Sam watched it as it turned back towards Dean and to Sam it had looked like a weird kind of supernatural showdown. If it was made into a movie it could be called 'Hunter vs. the Hunted'. Sam had tore his eyes away from the two of them and their confrontation and in the few blinks that it took for him to lay down the salt and pour the lighter fluid into the grave, the spirit was on top of Dean again, and managed to deliver another painful blow, this time to his brother's side. He had heard Dean struggle to speak between ragged breaths but he never failed to deliver one of his favourite lines. "That... all you got... bitch?" As Sam had thrown the match he turned to watch as the spirit dissolved with a burst of flame and as Dean slowly dropped to his knees onto the dirt below.

Sam now wonders as he glances over to Dean again, who is now staring at a spot on the dashboard, just what it was that has triggered the floodgates in his mind to open. Was it this latest hit to the head that has all the wires inside jumbled up, or was this hunt, this spirit, the very last in a long line of straws that have been breaking and this was the one to cause the whole house of cards to come crashing down? With the motel only a few miles away now, Sam lets his mind slow down for a moment. He feels worn out and tired and emotionally drained but knows that this is probably going to be one hell of a night for both of them.

As if on cue, out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees Dean as he starts to fidget in his seat, as he clutches and pulls at his head as if he is trying to pull his hair out by the roots. Sam watches as Dean then starts to look around the car and outside wildly as if he is searching for something and just can't seem to find it. Even though they are closing in on the motel, Sam opts to swerve the car to the side of the road so that he can give Dean his full attention. He needs to calm his brother down because the last thing the boys need is for Sam to drive into the ditch or something after being distracted by his brother. Once he slides the gear into park Sam looks over to his brother.

"Woah there Dean. Just relax. The motel is just a few minutes away now."

Dean looks over to his brother, clutches at his head once again and screams.

"Make it STOP! I can't do this anymore! They won't leave me alone! The souls! Dad! Mom! All the people I couldn't save! They are all in here, torturing me! Hating me! They won't leave me alone! Please! STOP! STOP IT! They won't leave me alone until I AM DEAD!"

Sam can see that Dean's head is bleeding again and while he frantically searches his mind for an answer of what to do, he watches as his brother takes down his bloodstained hands, places them in his lap, and stares at them as if seeing them for the first time.

"Calm down Dean. Please. We are going to fix this. Just please try and take it easy, we are almost there. I promise we will figure all of this out together."

The car then seems to be illuminated in a dull light. As Sam looks up from Dean and to the road, he sees a truck cresting over a hill on the other side. The light in the car becomes increasingly brighter as the truck looms closer and closer. Sam looks to Dean again and watches him in amazement as a slight smile graces his face.

"It's a sign Sammy. I know what I have to do. I know how to stop it all now. A sign. Who would have thought that I would see one, that I would know what a sign is. But I do know, and this is it."

Sam's eyebrows furrow in confusion. What is Dean talking about now? What sign?

Then Sam sees it. He almost feels the cogs in his mind start to turn. And he watches...as the scene seems to play out in slow motion. Dean unlocks the car door, the sign is the truck. CLICK goes a cog. Dean grabs the door handle, he has to get over to the truck. CLICK goes another cog. Dean opens the door and gets out of the car, he has to get creamed by the truck to make everything stop. CLICK goes the last cog. The truck is the sign, and that sign is barrelling down the road at 60 miles an hour.

As Sam blinks and realizes that Dean is no longer in the car, he feels a pure rush of adrenaline, scrambles for his own door handle and feels his throat burn as he screams and screams and screams out his brother's name...

**TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello to all! Well, here is the latest chapter, I hope that you enjoy it! :)**

"DEAN! STOP! DEAN! PLEASE STOP! LISTEN TO ME and STOP!"

Dean has rounded the front of the Impala and seems to be moving at a speed Sam thinks should be impossible considering the physical pain he knows he is in. But his brother looks to be a man on a mission, looks to be hell bent to make a break for the road, and looks to be damned if he is gonna let anyone or anything come betwen him and his supposed 'sign'.

Well, Sam is NOT going to let his brother make it to the road. Out of the car now and knowing he can catch Dean with ease in his current state, Sam take a few steps forward, reaches out, grabs the material of his brother's jacket and spins him around to face him.

"Stop this Dean. There is no sign. You are hurt and confused and not thinking straight. Let me help you fix this."

It happens in an instant. One second Sam is looking at his brother, keeping a vice like grip on his arm while he searches to break through to his tortured mind, the next he reels from the sting, the shock and the pain in his jaw as Dean's fist connects with it. Stars float across his vision and as Sam staggers backwards from the blow, he feels the grip on his brother loosen and then fade completely. Mere moments is all it takes for Sam to shake off the punch and get back in the game but when he focuses on his brother again he sees he has resumed his determined march towards the road ahead.

As he starts off again on this seemingly endless chase to save Dean, Sam glances to the road, to the truck, and wishes the damned thing would either speed up and pass them before his brother has his chance, or slow down so he has time to get to him. When he looks towards Dean, towards the truck and back to Dean again, Sam thinks that, if he didn't know better, all the planets in the entire universe are aligning perfectly to make this scene play out exactly how his big brother wants it to. Sam knows the time to save Dean is growing short. Eyes drift down the road and then the younger Winchester ponders again, maybe not every single planet. He watches the truck as it seems to reduce its speed and Sam takes that opportunity to call out to his brother.

"DEAN!"

As his brother stops briefly, turns, and looks over to him, Sam tries to push down the shiver he feels crawl up his spine and chill his very soul. Not only is he a witness to his older brother actually trying to turn himself into roadkill, the oldest Winchester is doing it with what Sam thinks is the most genuine smile he has seen on Dean's face in what seems like forever. He looks happy. Peaceful. But how can that be? Is the pain of living so great that the only solution is death? He hears Dean's voice then. Hears him speak in the most eerily calm of tones.

"Don't worry Sam. I'm good. I'm feeling really, really good Sammy."

Sam can't help it. He feels a surge of anger bubble up within him and decides it's time to go for the jugular. Do it Sam. 100%. Play that damned Sammy card for all it is worth or your brother is dead. As Dean turns his back to him once more, Sam realizes it truly is now or never. He closes his eyes, takes in a huge breath, opens his eyes to stare at his brother's retreating form and finds that his is screaming at the top of his lungs.

"DEAN! DON'T YOU DO IT! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME BEHIND AGAIN! DON'T YOU DO THAT TO ME! NOT AGAIN! I WILL HATE YOU FOREVER IF YOU LEAVE ME, IF YOU DO THIS! DON'T BE A SELFISH BASTARD!"

No sooner has Sam spewed out those words than he sees it. Dean stops. In mid-step. Stops in his tracks. Believing this to be HIS very own sign, Sam full on sprints to where his brother stands. As he fights to regain control of his breath and of the emotions welling up inside, Sam reaches his shaking hands out to gently touch his brother's back. He feels the sobs wracking throughout him and feels his own tears start to fall. Chancing a quick gaze towards the road, Sam feels a chuckle working its way from his gut to his lips. The truck, the damned truck that just mere moments ago stood as a speeding symbol of Dean's death, now seems to be moving at the speed of a snail. Sam breaks out his best, most enormous ear to ear grin and lets his laughter soar out into the night as he sees the truck's turn signal start to blink and watches as it disappears down a lonely dirt road. Sam turns to his brother and whispers both to himself and to Dean.

"Sorry Dean, the signs say it all. This is so obviously NOT your day to die."

**TBC...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this latest, and possibly final, installment! :)**

The brothers stand in the middle of the road, a road out in the middle of nowhere, and Sam finds he can finally breathe a semi-sort-of sigh of relief. Another bullet dodged he thinks as the close call with the truck flashes across his weary mind. Sensing that his brother's strength has finally left him, the younger brother drapes an arm over Dean's shoulder and gently turns him so they can start the short trek back to the Impala. He looks at Dean's face and notices the streaks of tears mixed with blood streaming in a steady flow down his brother's cheeks, chin and finally sliding off and on to the ground below. The sobs continue to pour out of his brother, seemingly from the very depths of his soul, and Sam squeezes Dean's shoulder that much more. He wants to stop, to yell at Dean and find out just what the hell he is thinking. He wants to stop, pull his brother into the mother of all bear hugs and never let go. Yes, people in the know would call it a 10 on the chick flick moment scale but Sam doesn't care, he just wants, just needs to feel that his brother is still there, still with him. He decides that moment will have to keep until later as the shuffling of feet on ashphalt and those continuing sobs are all that Sam hears in the otherwise stillness of the night. And it's those sobs that compel him to keep going and not give in to the enormous desire to hug his brother, his arm circling his brother will have to be enough for now.

Sam knows the fight has left Dean's body as his brother's pace slows, his gait weakens and he increasingly leans towards Sam. He sees that the darkness his brother so desperately had tried to extinguish has returned, and although he feels terrible for thinking it, at the moment Sam is grateful for that. Dean is much easier to manhandle when he isn't throwing punches or racing towards some kind of imaginary sign. It's when he is in the dark, painful recesses of his own mind, his own memories, his own torture that Sam finds it the easiest to get him to cooperate. As Sam feels Dean's despair crashing in waves over him, Sam starts and keeps up a steady, softly spoken mantra to his brother to try and keep him grounded to this moment and this moment alone.

"It's okay Dean, everything will be okay. I've got you and I won't let you go. You and me, Sammy and Dean, together always. You have been there for me in so many ways for so very long and you need to remember that I am here for you too. You don't have to always be so strong and willing to tackle everything on your own. I am here for you. It's okay Dean, everything is going to be okay. Just trust in me the way I trust in you."

Not expecting or waiting for a response and having reached the car, Sam leads Dean to the passenger side and gets him into his beloved Impala without incident. It is looking to Sam as if his brother is going to succumb to exhaustion at any moment as he sees Dean lean his head against the coolness of the window and shut his eyes within seconds of the door closing. Sam quickly gets into the car and the two brothers head back out on the road to travel the few remaining miles to the motel.

Is it a surge of euphoria that Sam feels as he pulls into the parking lot of the dingy motel and sees the door to their room staring at him invitingly? Yup, he is pretty sure that's the feeling. He's never been so glad to see a motel in his life! He chuckles and wonders who would have thought he would ever get this excited to see a dump of this scale come into focus? He turns towards Dean and figures by the looks of him that his older brother is now out cold. Sam takes this moment to get out of the car, and as he stretches his legs he delicately places a couple of fingers on his jaw. He can't wait to give Dean shit for that sucker punch. Smiling a bit to himself at that thought, Sam retrieves their bags out of the car, opens the door to the motel room and throws them on the floor. As his brothers head is most likely going to be pounding a light-hating beat, he opts to turn on only the bathroom light to illuminate the room just enough to see where he is going. Turning down the covers on the bed furthest away from the door, Sam gets set to lug his big brother inside.

After everything that has happened over just the past few hours, Sam half expects to see an empty seat where Dean had been resting just moments before. Much to Sam's delight however, as he steps out of the motel room and eyes the car ahead, his brother remains in the exact same position he was left in. Thank God for that at least. Crossing over to the car door, Sam ponders just what the best method would be to get his brother from the car to the room. It seems like such a small task to accomplish but as Sam has discovered time and time again on what is turning out to be the longest night in history, he won't assume that anything at this moment in time would or could be simple.

As he looks at Dean's face and watches his breath fog up the window, Sam reaches out to tap lightly on it. He thinks that it will take much more than that to get his brothers attention when to him it looks like an earthquake wouldn't faze him, and so Sam feels a slight flutter of surprise when Dean flinches at the sound. Tilting his head up and peering through half lidded and glazed over eyes, Sam watches and waits as Dean's focus finally rests on his younger brother's face. Sam offers him a worried but genuine smile and moves to open the door. The youngest Winchester leans inside slightly and speaks slowly and carefully to his brother.

"We're here now Dean. Time to get you inside."

"Sure S'my...S'my, wha' hppn?"

"Nothing for you to worry about right now Dean."

Without further explanation, Sam extends his arm and Dean grasps it, although weakly, and Sam pulls him from the car. Even though Sam keeps his arm firmly in place on his brothers, he feels Dean stumble as his legs decide enough is enough, decide they don't want to support this weight anymore and as a result they buckle and Dean crashes to the ground with a thud and a moan. Sam sighs, stops to get a better hold around his brother, lifts him up and pretty much carries him through the door of their room. Once inside he closes the door softly, delicately places his brother on the bed and observes Dean as he instantly collapses into the mattress and shuts his eyes.

"Not so fast dude, first things first, we need to get you out of your jacket and boots and then give you the once over."

"Head, hrts. Side, hrts. Don' wanna move. Check mornin. Need sleep. So tired S'my. So tired."

While Dean continues to mutter and ramble slurred and disconnected words and phrases, Sam moves to until and get his brothers boots off as he tries to keep him awake.

"No can do Dean, you took a pretty good beating out there today and you know the drill. No resting until all the wounds are checked and cleaned. I promise, you can sleep as long as you want once I am sure you're good. I'll help you up and we'll get this over as quick as we can okay?"

"Whatvr u say Sammmmmantha... Just make quick k? don' feel good. wanna sleep for week. stay here.. not move. what wrong with m'head? feel funny. and cold. why so cold? What happn?"

Seeing that Dean is actually look at him for the answers, Sam decides to indulge him. "Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Spirit. Spirit out for revenge. Decrepit old graveyard. You looking out for me. Looking out for me by putting yourself between me and the spirit. You pissing off the spirit, followed by your head coming in contact with a headstone. Etc. Etc. Etc... Just another day at the office."

"Don' member much. Out of it? You hurt?"

"Nope, as usual I am fine, you always make sure of that don't you? Always saving me, never thinking about yourself, always saving. Anyways, I am pretty sure that you have a nasty cut on your head, maybe even a concussion and i'd say you are looking at at least a few bruised ribs. That's probably not all, i'm also thinking fever and hallucinations too. So, we need to get a good look. Quit stalling, let's sit you up, patch you up, give you some pain pills and some water and then we can both get some well-deserved rest."

"Ya, sounds good." Taking that as his invite to move his brother, Sam helps him up into a sitting position and carefully leans him against the headboard.

"Just stay here, right here, in THIS spot. I'll be right back with the make-you-all-better supplies." With a smirk Sam heads off to the duffle bags.

"OK... k... quit naggin' 'n hurry up ahready. Bitch."

Bitch. That one word really is like music to Sam's ears. As the smile shines brightly on his face after being called what most would consider an unfriendly name, it quickly fades. Sam is heading back to the bed when he watches as what started out as a small chuckle at his own hilariousness finds Dean having to swing his legs over the bed, grip the mattress on either side of him and lean over as an unrelenting series of coughs and sputters take over his entire being. Sam feels the onset of a panic attack stirring in his brother as Dean's body heaves and he tries desperately to get air that isn't coming into his lungs. Quickly kneeling in front of his older brother, Sam grabs one of Dean's hands, places it firmly on his own chest and covers it with his own.

"Dean, you need to get your breathing under control or you are going to pass out. Just follow me. Feel the rise and fall of my chest, feel the rhythm. Follow it. Follow me. Concentrate on nothing but your breathing. Breathe with me. Your doing great. That's it. In. And out. In. And out. Good. You are doing really good Dean. Just relax and the air will come. That's it. Good. In and out. In and out."

After a few minutes of steady reassurances and constant contact with his brother, Dean's breath evens out and Sam is now more than ready to get his brother checked out so Dean can get the rest that his body is definitely demanding from him now. Sam reaches up to remove Dean's hand from his chest so he can get the supplies out but feels his brother lift his own hands to stop Sam from going anywhere.

"No S'm. Don't go. Mmmm s'ry. Tried to save. Couldn't. Stay. Don' leave me alone. Mmm s'ry. Don' hate me S'my. Please?"

Looking into Dean's eyes Sam sees fear. Pure, raw, uncontrollable fear. Fevered eyes gaze at him as they brim with unshed tears and anguish. So, Sam doesn't leave, he doesn't go get the supplies, but he takes this moment, this moment in this rundown motel room in the middle of anywhere USA to use this rare opportunity to comfort his brother. As his usually smug, cocky, self-assured, kickass brother desperately clings to him, Sam takes the plunge and embraces his brother in that over the top, 10 on the chick flick scale mother of all hugs and lets his brother know without saying a word that he is never, ever going to leave him.

**The End? I haven't quite decided. ****If you have strong feelings either way, if I should leave it as it is or continue on please let me know. Thanks to all who have read and followed this story along. It has been fun and I think I may just have to take the Supernatural Fanfiction ride again very soon. :) Take care and happy reading and writing to all of you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello again everyone. Well, I had a couple of requests to keep this story going and to get Dean feeling better. Here I am with another chapter but no happy endings yet. Once I started typing, thoughts just kept on spilling out onto the page so this chapter won't be the last either. Thanks for the comments and views of this story, I hope you enjoy the read! :)**

The embrace that the Winchester brothers find themselves in lasts for, well, Sam can't really say. As he continues to hold onto his brother, rub his back and murmur words of comfort in an attempt to show Dean that he is still there, Sam wishes. He just wishes that his big brother would stop keeping his damned walls up, that he would stop building them so high that when the inevitable crash comes the fall out turns into this. Sam feels his mind reel as the desperation he continues to feel wafting from Dean makes his heart ache. Be strong Sam. Don't fall apart now. Be strong for Dean. He needs you.

"Shhh. Quite Dean. Shhh. I don't hate you, how could I? You feel me holding you right? I am here and you are safe. You are just having a really, incredibly bad night. Listen, still need to clean your wounds okay? You will feel much better once you are clean and comfortable. I just need to go over to the other side of the bed and grab the bag. I'm going to go and get it now but I am coming right back. Do you hear me Dean? I will be right back. Just relax, it will only take a sec."

Sam begins to untangle himself from Dean and sees he is now staring at the floor and Sam can feel the tremors continue to travel throughout his brothers body. Sam places one hand under Dean's chin and tilts his head upwards so he can see his face.

"Dean, open your eyes and look at me." Slowly but surely, Dean does as he is told and when Sam is sure that his eyes are as focused as they can be and that his brother actually sees him, he continues. "I am just going to get the bag but I will be right back. Why don't you lean back against the headboard and rest for a minute okay?" "Dean? Do you understand?"

"Ya, got ya. lean headboard. be rght bk. hmmm. got it."

Okay, Sam thinks that's as good as it's gonna get as he settles his brother against the headboard once more. Without making another comment he rushes over, picks up the bag and is back beside Dean in what seems like a few milliseconds at best. Whew, made it. While Dean seems busy and content to just stare at something on his shirt, probably something only he can see, Sam tugs lightly at the left sleeve of his jacket and manages to free his arm with relative ease. Okay, now, onto side number two, the sore side. "Dean, I need you to lean forward for a sec so I can get your right arm out okay?"

Sam feels Dean move and hears a gasp of pain as he works quickly to release his brothers right arm from the confines of the jacket. Maneuvering Dean, who now has his eyes closed and is panting heavily, onto the bed so he is laying down on his back, Sam lifts up his shirt. Although there isn't much light in the room, he can instantly see the shadows of multiple bruises as they make ugly marks against his brothers skin. Sam decides it would be best not to bother, or rather not to panic his brother with a commentary of what he is about to do and just goes for it. He places his hands on his brothers side, presses down and quickly scans the area for any sign of broken bones. Sam had been expecting a moan or a 'sonofabitch' comment from his older brother but he wasn't prepared for the full blown scream that now fills the air of their cheap motel room. Instantly taking his hand away from Dean's side, Sam places one on his knee instead and squeezes. Hard.

"Dean? Dean? You still with me man?"

"S'my? ya, just, ow. hurts. done yet?"

Sam watches his brothers pain-filled eyes reach out to him, peer into him and all he wants is for this frickin nightmare to end! All he needs is to keep Dean calm enough to finish this and, of course, that is just one more thing that isn't cooperating with the brothers tonight. Grabbing the duffel bag, Sam reaches in, grabs a bottle of water and some pain meds and decides that they are what his brother needs more than anything right now.

"Okay Dean, you're okay. How about you take something to help with the pain?" Sam moves to hand the water and pills over to his brother but finds that Dean looks very lost. Boy, he really is in rough shape. "For the pain Dean. The pills will help with the pain. Just take them okay?" With a slight nod, Dean reaches out, grabs the pills with a shaking hand and chases them down with a swig of water.

"Alright, that's good Dean. Let's just hang out for a little bit and wait for those little wonders to work their magic on ya okay?"

"Ya. feel better ahready. maybe whsky help? faster?"

On any other day, after any other hunt, Sam would protest in spades at the thought of mixing pills with booze but right now he can't help but admit that the thought is tempting as hell and, after this anything but ordinary day, he feels he could use a good stiff drink himself. "Sounds good. Where you hidin' your stash these days dude?"

"Bag. side pocket. zipper."

After a minute or two, Sam returns to the bed with two glasses of amber liquid and holds out one to his brother. To his brother who now, as far as Sam can tell, is feeling the effects of the meds kick in and is actually starting to drift into an unusual state of calmness. His breathing is slow and relaxed, his eyes are open but, because Sam knows his brother like he does, he is pretty sure they aren't seeing much. He places Dean's glass on the nightstand and just stares at him for a moment, watching the even rise and fall of his chest. Dean's voice brings him out of his trance. "Whers m'ne S'my? not good t'drink alone."

Sam giggles at that a bit. "Maybe you should just call it a night Dean, save the drink for tomorrow." Sensing that his brother is about to put up a protest to his idea, Sam heads him off at the pass. "It's on the nightstand. If you really think you want it then that is where it will be. Otherwise, get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning." Giving his brothers knee one more squeeze, Sam rises off the bed and moves out of Dean's line of sight.

He witnesses one feeble attempt by his older brother to reach the glass and keeps watch as that attempt quickly fades and he hears his brother let out a deep and weary sigh. Dean seems to just melt away into the mattress after that and appears to be, at least for this one moment in time, at rest.

Sam watches his brother sleep from the chair he sits in across the room. Rubbing at his eyes, he feels the fatigue, the emotional drain of this hellish night starting to take its toll on him. He feels sleep beckon him to give in. Sam knows he should get up, finish working on Dean while he is still out, but he finds it incredibly difficult with each passing moment to move even one muscle. As his eyes slip shut and he starts to drift off, his last conscious thoughts are of how he and his stubborn ass of a brother are going to have the mother of all talks in the morning.

As Sam dozes away on his makeshift bed, he doesn't notice when Dean begins to toss and turn, begins to moan and whimper, and finally how he begins to thrash around on the bed as his fevered mind begins to do battle with every demon, every soul, and every single person he feels responsible for hurting. As Sam opens his bleary eyes and takes in the sight of his brother looking like he is having some sort of epileptic seizure, he decides this is just the kind of thing he did NOT want to wake up to. But, as he rushes over to his brothers side, Sam thinks that if he has learned anything over the past little while, it's that the Winchester brothers never seem to get what they want.

**TBC...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello everyone! Well, here is another chapter in the Dean-is-having-a-really-bad-night saga. I hope as always that it will bring you some enjoyment. Thanks everyone for the reviews, keep 'em comin'! :)**

Sam is beside Dean in an instant but feels frozen in place as he stares down at his brothers form which is writhing on the bed, his back arching and his arms lashing out in all directions. With a shake of his head to clear it, Sam grabs hold of flailing arms and presses them down into the mattress on either side of Dean. He can feel the heat as it radiates from his older brothers skin and knows his erratic movements are wreaking havoc on his already fragile physical state. Sam mutters to himself about how he knew he should have wrapped those damn ribs. Frickin' figures.

"Dean. DEAN! It's Sam. Please, you have to wake up man, you are totally freaking me out right now!" No response. "WAKE UP DAMN IT!"

Dean's eyes fly open but it is only pure delirium that Sam sees. Wild eyes dart around frantically and finally come to rest on a spot somewhere past Sam. As his brothers pulse quickens, Sam senses pure panic now take hold of his sibling. "NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"Dean, it's Sam, snap out of it!"

Eyes shift over to the right. "Dad? Please!"

"Dean, c'mon man, listen to me. Whatever you are seeing it is NOT real, you are here with me, in the motel room."

Eyes forward. "NO."

Eyes to the right. "Don't let me burn dad. Please? Don't let 'em burn me!"

"DEAN, STOP IT! It is NOT real!"

Chest heaving and eyes consumed with fear, panic and fever, Dean desperately tries to inch away from his imagined tormentors. As he starts to move his legs, to scramble farther back on the bed, Sam tries again to break through to him.

"DEAN! It's just you and me. It's Sam. Please, RELAX!"

Eyes focus behind Sam again. "no..no..no.. GET BACK! NO! NO! AAAAAH!"

Sam watches in horror as Dean looks towards his legs. "STOP!" Looks to his chest. "NO!" With tears flowing and his breaths coming out in short spurts, Dean now looks towards his arms. "PLEASE! STOP!" Sam sees his brothers back arch and he fights to keep Dean from flying off the bed. "AAAAAH! AAAAAH! AAAAAH!"

Dean then collapses into the mattress, eyes still open. Looks to the right. "dad? why? why hate me?" Sobs. "m'sry. i know, shoulda left me to die. don't deserve. failed. you. me. sam. no good. should of been me. should been me."

Eyes close.

Sam releases the hold he has on his brother and can hear his own rapid breaths in his ears. God, the pain he is feeling. The youngest Winchester looks to the nightstand, grabs the still standing glass of whiskey and downs it in one gulp, never taking his eyes from his brother. The warm sensation of the alcohol numbs his throat and mind for a fleeting moment but as he becomes overwhelmed by what he has just seen his brother go through he sits on the bed, puts his head in his hands, and cries.

He cries until the tears stop their steady stream. Sam feels like his head is under water, his thoughts rattling around inside his brain as he tries to make sense of all he has seen. Can it really be that Dean thinks he should have died after the crash? That somehow he now thinks dad made a mistake? That dad torments him in his mind about how he shouldn't have saved him? Does he really think that their dad hates him? After everything that he has done for all of them? The weight of so many things have been put onto Dean's shoulders. Looking after his younger brother while their dad hunted for the demon that killed their mom, looking after their dad, learning to hunt, to be a good soldier, fighting creatures that others only dreamt of in their nightmares, so many things that nobody, especially a young son should ever worry or even know about. The emotions Sam feels range from guilt to rage to love to shock as the events over the past few years tumble about in his mind. He never knew how damaged, how hurt, how close to the edge his brother really was.

Sam gets up from the bed and makes his way over to the bathroom as he decides a splash of water might do him some good. He feels the water wash away some of his fatigue and knows Dean probably could use the same treatment. Returning to the room with a damp washcloth in tow, Sam gently washes away the blood, the tears and hopefully some of the pain from his brothers face. He smiles as he can hear Dean moan softly at the touch, as he enjoys this small moment of comfort. As the older brother begins to stir, Sam leans over him and whispers in his ear. "It's okay Dean, just rest. You need to sleep and get better. Don't worry, I'll stay right beside you." Sam grins when he sees the slightest of smiles flitter across his brothers face before he relaxes his body once again into the bed.

"mmmm...thks s'my, y're best, s'my, y're the best. nite."

Sam dozes off and on the rest of the night, opting to lay beside Dean on his bed to be close in case he suffers another hallucination. As light begins to stream into the window, the first sensation he feels to start the day is a swat to his hand. His hand that just happens to be laying on top of his big brothers chest. Oops, awkward moment. But, Sam figures, a much nicer way to wake up.

"What hell S'm? i ain't swing tha way. ged off."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your boxers in a knot, i'm off." Sam moves his hand and his body away from Dean and walks towards the sink to get his brother a glass of water. "So, how are you feeling this morning?"

"umm. fine. i feel fine. you?"

Sam is at the sink, filling up a glass with water when Dean's comment stops him cold. The water forgotten, he turns to face his brother. "I'm fine Dean." Sam feels his blood start to boil as his brother tries to once again deflect questions about him and make them into questions about Sam. Not gonna fall for it this time. "And, I don't believe you for one second, you are not fine! Do you remember ANYTHING from last night? Hmmm?" As Sam looks over to Dean he can't quite figure out the expression he sees. It looks like Dean is trying to think...really hard...about the last 12 hours but by the look on his face Sam doesn't think he's getting much except a big fat nothing.

"Okay, stop, you'll hurt your brain thinking so hard. I'm going to tell you how it is and what is going to happen today. We are going to wrap your ribs, you are going to let me look at that hard head of yours, and then I am going to run out and get some breakfast. You are going to stay here and stay in bed and so help me, if I come back and you have moved one inch from that spot I am going to tie you down so you can't move. Then, we are going to eat, you are going to have some water and some pills to help with the pain that I KNOW you are in and to get rid of that fever of yours."

As he continues to stare at Dean, he notices a smirk come to his face. Sam feels he is about to be on the receiving end of another typical Dean-ish, smartass comment and quickly takes that opportunity away from his brother. Sam lifts his hand up in a stop gesture and lays his best ever death-glare onto the older Winchester son. It's a winning combination as Dean's smirk falters and is replaced by slight confusion. "No Dean, don't talk right now, save that for later. Now, where was I? Oh yes, following the physical exam, we are going to sit and talk. You are going to listen while I tell you every single thing that happened last night and then you, Dean, you are going to talk to me. You are going to sit here and I am going to ask you questions, probably the most questions you have ever been asked in your whole life. And then, you know what? You are not going to evade, joke, bullshit, laugh, try to run away, deflect or any of those other tactics that you have perfected. No, you are going to answer every single on of them because after last night you can no longer tell me that you are fine. After last night you need to answer the questions I ask. And you will. So help me Dean, before we leave this dirty, rundown shack of a motel you will answer them. So, you understand me? Got it? Good. Now, lets get to those ribs of yours shall we?"

**TBC... **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello Everyone! Well, it's time for the talk between the brothers to begin (place ominous music of your choice here). I enjoyed writing it and hope that you will enjoy reading it. Thanks for the great comments and reviews, they really make my day!**

"So, let's start you off with a simple yes or no question. Maybe just a little something to ease you slowly into the world of providing answers. OK, lets see. Got it! How about this one. Are you in pain?"

Sam looks to Dean for the answer as he helps him to sit up on the bed. He really wants to take another look at those ribs. But, as per the norm, his question is rewarded with a steady stream of silence. Were those crickets he just heard?

"Okay, well, while you think about your answer - and your options are either yes or no by the way - let's get your shirt off and wrap you up." As Sam moves to grab the bottom of his brother's shirt he is greeted by, yet again, another typical Dean comment.

"Jesus Sam. Can do m'self."

Snap goes one of Sam's nerves. "Okay tough guy, go ahead, let's just see you do that then."

Deans breath hitches as he begins to lift up his shirt and Sam can't help but sigh as he eyes his brother's side. His very black and blue side. Note to self: Never, ever fall asleep BEFORE wrapping ribs again. EVER. As his pain in the ass brother continues to struggle feebly with the simple task of lifting his damned shirt up, Sam feels his annoyance with him rise exponentially. For the love of...why can't he just admit, for once, that he needs even the tiniest bit of support? Always having to prove his supposed toughness is wearing Sam's nerves very, very thin at this particular moment.

"God Dean. Stop already. What are you trying to prove? Why can't you just admit that it hurts and you can't do it yourself and that you need my help? Why is it so damn hard for to ask for even a little bit of help once in a while? Why?"

"Geez, don't get your panties in a bunch Samantha. It's just a little weird havin your little bro watch while you undress yourself. Boy, who pissed in yer cornflakes this mornin'?"

Sam is NOT going to give in to any of Dean's taunts or bullshit. He knows his sibling is putting on the usual show, in the hopes that Sam will get tired of the attitude, leave him alone, and let the 'talk' slide. All he wants is for Sam to just give in and forget about it. Nope, not gonna work. Sam sees right through it, through the jokes, the smirks and the smart ass comebacks. And he is ready for it.

"Whatever Dean. Why don't you just let me know when you're done, I gotta take a leak anyway."

"Sure. Did you need any help with your pants? I mean, since we're sharin' stuff and being all touchy today?"

The sarcasm that drips off his brother leads Sam to conclude that he is working hard, getting his defenses and walls built back up to their maximum. Looking at his older brother, Sam stages an exaggerated roll of his eyes and rises from the bed to make his way to the bathroom. He stops briefly at the door and casts one more glance to the bed and Dean, who now gives him his best 'what you waiting for bitch' eyebrow lift. Sam then ducks into the room.

The younger Winchester lets out a breath, splashes some cool water on his face and then examines his reflection in the mirror. He looks exhausted and has a slight bruise on his jaw from that punch that Dean delivered. Boy, that seems like a lifetime ago. But, as he continues to stare at himself what else is it that he sees look back at him? Oh yeah, that's it. He sees that it will take only one smart ass comment, one twitch, one wrong word from his jackass brother for him to suffer a meltdown of his own. Careful big brother, it won't take much of your bullshit to set your little baby brother off today. Sam takes a deep breath, then another as he places his hand on the doorknob.

As he opens the door Sam hears a few choice expletives as they rush from his brother's mouth. "Shit...frig...need to wear buttoned shirts...ugh...son of a bitch!" Sam observes that Dean's shirt remains firmly in place and the only difference he sees in the sight before him is the increased rise and fall of his brother's chest and that his sibling seems to be extremely pissed off. Well, that makes two of us.

"So? How goes it out here? Ah, I see, you are still working up to it are you? Here, I have a suggestion. Why don't you stop being a big, stubborn jerk for once huh? It's just a god damned shirt!" Before Dean has a chance for a saucy comment, Sam rushes him, grabs his shirt, and does his best to drown out the sounds of pain eminating from his older brother as he whips it up over his head and throws it triumphantly to the floor.

Dean takes a moment or two to slow down his rapid breaths, eyes his brother and produces one of his best smiles "Careful Samsquatch, injured hero over here ya know." As soon as the words are out of his mouth Sam sees the regret on his brother's face and takes full advantage of the older Winchester's faux pas.

"AHA!" Sam feels like he has just won the lottery and as he exclaims excitedly to his brother to prove his victory he actually points a finger towards him. "Well, well... Ding, Ding! We have a winner! You, dear brother, are injured! Not a yes answer which would have been much easier and FASTER but hey, beggars can't be choosers right? I knew it! I knew you were in pain and you now how? Because I was there you idiot! When that spirit took its hate out on you, I WAS THERE. When your head connected, once again, to a headstone I WAS THERE! I was there and heard the noises you made while that frickin' spirit tore into you! I WAS THERE! Hmmm... I've learned something valuable here today. I guess I'll remember for next time that you will admit you are actually hurt ONLY when you feel your manhood is being threatened by the heinous act of your brother taking off your shirt to look at your possibly BROKEN RIBS! Frickin priceless! I have GOT to write that down!"

"Sammy? Are you okay? Are you going to hyperventilate? Maybe you should let me look at you?"

"No friggin way Dean-O! Nope, you are not laying one finger on me. Today is all about helping you so you are not doing any of the asking or any of the helping or anything else today, I AM! Only me! So Dean, we've made some real progress here with this injured acknowledgement on your part. Since we seem to be all done with the bullshit chapter of this particular story, tell me, how do you feel?"

"Ok, okay. If it will stop this melodrama in its tracks. I'll come clean. I mean we don't need you to spontaneously combust from your obviously over-heated emotions now do we?"

Sam ignores his brothers ultra lame attempts to goad him into making this conversation about the younger brother. "Well?"

He now sees defeat start to show on Dean's face. He's almost done with the charade. C'mon bro, tell me what I want to hear. Sam listens as his brother's response comes out in more of a whisper.

"I guess I don't feel totally fine. A bit off."

"Well that's a start. Do tell though. What exactly feels off?" Sam can now sense that Dean is at a point where he may actually truly tell him what he wants to know.

"Side is killing me. Can't remember too much, my head feels kinda fuzzy, and have a constant headache."

"Thank you Dean, I knew you had it in you. Okay, let's get your ribs wrapped up and then I'll make sure you don't have any parts of your skull poking through. The rest we will figure out okay?"

"Yeah... okay S'my."

Sam takes his time and binds his brother's ribs in silence and then moves on to clean the wound on his brother's head. He feels a bit concerned that the damage doesn't seem to be too severe. He's glad that it isn't but at the same time if it was it would help explain his brothers bizarre behaviour the night before. Oh well, we will get to all of that later. As Sam finishes up the brothers have slipped into a comfortable silence, each locked away in their own thoughts.

"Ok bro, all patched up. Feel better?"

"Yeah, I'm good. But Sam, did you happen to catch the number of the truck that hit me?"

What? Did Dean actually just say that? Sam feels like he's getting slammed in the chest with a frickin' sledgehammer. Memories of the car ride, the 'sign', of Dean as he races to get in front of that truck speed through Sam's brain and then he finds he suddenly has a smirk on his face. Perfect. His eyes rest of Dean's and his brother looks a little unsure of what to say or do. Like he doesn't know what the hell is going through his younger brother's mind. How does it feel Dean? Sam can not believe that his pigheaded brother actually just supplied him with the PERFECT segway to another chick flick moment. Totally Awesome.

"Actually Dean, it's kind of funny that you would say that. You actually almost had that exact thing happen - almost had a close encounter of the truck-running-you-over kind. The fact that you brought it up, as a joke yet, makes it seem extremely funny in a very, very weird and almost eerie kind of way. It also tells me that you have absolutely no idea what you did or what happened. So, it's the absolute perfect lead up to question #2 of the day. I know that I am skipping the breakfast, etc., part of my plan but trust me, if you were in my shoes right now, you wouldn't believe the opportunity that has just landed in my lap either. So, ready? Here is the question. **Do you really want to die**?"

**TBC...**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi everyone! First of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH for keeping with me on this journey and for being so kind with your comments, I truly, truly appreciate all of you sticking with me on this story! This chapter could be called "Dean Fights Back". I hope you enjoy.**

**It's funny, I had thought this story would only be a few chapters. Huh, who knew? Thanks again!**

Great. Now Sam thinks he can smell something - yeah, he can alright, and he knows exactly what it is. He smells the fuse, the fuse that has just been ignited under his brother. And does he maybe hear something too? Yup, he hears a ticking timebomb, the one that now stares at him with the most extreme of extreme pissed off expressions. Perhaps a line of some kind has just been crossed? As he stares at his brother, Sam now knows it was probably a bad move on his part to use his I-can-talk-the-talk-too mouth. He flinches as he imagines his older brother's response. And, by the looks of that brother right at this moment in time, at this exact point in their increasingly screwed up, strange, bizarre, weird and all around fricked up existence after a seemingly routine and every day hunt, Sam feels he is about to be on the receiving end of a rant of unbridled proportions. A rant which, when it comes to Dean, will no doubt be one of legend. The younger brother sighs, squints his eyes and awaits the inevitable barrage. And his brother, as usual, does not disappoint.

"Hmmm... that's a tough one Sam... really." Tap goes an index finger on the chin. "Wait, just wait, I think maybe an answer is forming. Just a minute," holds out his hand in a stop gesture, "don't talk, just listen. Isn't that the rule of the day? You talk, I listen and then I talk and you listen. But only if I am talking about what it is that you want to hear right? See? It is so screwed up that it doesn't even sound right. But wait, I got off topic there didn't I? I'm not allowed to deviate from the question right? Wait, what was the question again? Oh, I remember now. Wasn't it DO YOU REALLY WANT TO DIE? Am I right? Okay, hmmm..." Tap, tap, tap on the chin. "What to answer, what to answer, that really is a pickle isn't it? It may take a while, do you have some paper and a pen so I can jot down some notes, do a couple of mathmatic equations and formulate my response? No? Well, that's okay. Wait! I think I got it,"

"WHAT THE FRICK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT SAM? I don't know what the hell is going on with you OR with me but you are acting like a hopped up, evilish kind of Mother Theresa or something! It's like some kind of inside joke where YOU are the only one who knows what the lead up is!" Dean pauses for a moment to catch his out of control breath and Sam sees that he is trying to keep his temper in check. "What is this Sam? Are you trying some kind of psychology mumbo-jumbo on me? Like an experiment? A frickin rat in a frickin cage? In case you have forgotten during your high and mighty moment, my head is pounding and my body is aching and I don't want to end up puking my guts out as a result of enduring an endless battle of being all this touchy feely one minute followed by let's play a game with Dean's head the next minute piece of crap! So, what exactly is it you want from me?"

Dean doesn't wait for or want a response and as Sam continues to watch his brother's face he notices that he isn't really looking at Sam anymore but seems to be talking to the air. "Why am I ALWAYS on the receiving end of this kind of BULLSHIT? God, not every person on the planet longs for or needs to have at least one chick-friggin-flick moment every freakin day of their life! Feelings? I say who needs 'em. Thoughts? They cause nothing but trouble. Did anyone ever, ever think once that maybe I don't want to feel? That maybe I don't want to think?"

Sam is amazed. Not at the venom that spits from Dean's mouth. Not at the words spewed at him in the heat of the moment. No, he's kind of used to that, it is Dean after all. No, Sam stands there, amazed at the fact that not once throughout his brothers disjointed speech did his brother actually answer the question. Interesting. Why would Dean find it so difficult to just spit out the word NO? If only to humour Sam and get the topic over with so they could continue on? Okay, so Dean is hurting and seems to be really, really pissed off but Sam can't help but think there is more to it than him just trying to annoy his younger brother by not giving in, by not giving Sam what he wants. No, the younger Winchester thinks that the real reason is that his big brother honestly does not know what the answer is. And that thought, above all others that have been tumbling around in his head, is what sends yet another uncontrollable shiver throughout his body. Sam is ready to say something to hopefully diffuse the current and very tense moment between the brothers, when it becomes apparent that his older brother is not quite finished yet as he starts up his engine once again.

"You know what? I am really starting to get worked up and a little freaked out over here and you Sam, YOU are not helping! You are being evasive and acting like a know it all. And why? Well, maybe it's because YOU ARE! It's true okay, I DO NOT know what happened last night but you DO and you are deliberately choosing to keep me in the dark. I don't remember ANYTHING after getting to that stupid cemetery so please, excuse me if I seem to be a bit of a hot-head in your eyes. How would you feel if you had no memory of what you have done for the past 12 hours and you are stuck in this dive with your brother who just happens to be treating you like a FRIGGIN HEAD CASE! Well, I will tell you how it is making me feel Sam. It is scaring the shit out of me! What would make you ask me such a weird question? And what the frick does a truck have to do with anything? C'mon dude, just out with it already Sammy because I am starting to fade here and feel like if I laid down I would sleep for a week. Just tell me, what the hell happened that has made you go all prison guard on me?"

Sam stares into his brothers eyes and can feel the fear there, the confusion, all the emotions that are usually so well hidden as they bore right into him and it takes his breath away. Okay Sam, you wanted to tell him, you wanted him to listen to you, and now that your big moment has arrived you feel nothing but queasy and unsure of yourself. Typical.

**TBC... **


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi all! Here I am once again. The thoughts just kept coming when I starting typing this out today. I, as always, appreciate your comments and reviews and am hoping that this chapter is to your liking.**

Oh no. This can't be good. It's true though. Dean is right. He is right. Sam can remember every single detail of the night before and has been wanting so badly to get his brother to confide to him his deepest, darkest thoughts about all those demons that haunt him, that he didn't stop to think of the affect that his search for those secrets was doing, was having on his older brother. Of what toll his 'interrogation methods' were taking on him. As he continues to feel his sibling's eyes burn through him, he looks to him and those eyes seem to include a silent plea for help, for help to piece together the jumble of emotions he feels and to understand what has and what is happening.

Sam steels himself against his rising set of nerves and speaks in what he hopes comes across to his brother as total and utter confidence. "Yeah, okay Dean, you're right. I will tell you about it but, it's just, you know, I am worried about you and it seems maybe I let that get in the way of maintaining my usually calm and charming exterior. I'm sorry man. You know, I didn't mean to or think that I would scare you. But, you're right. You need answers from me to fill in the gaps. But you need to understand that I am going to need answers from you too okay? But first, I think you and I should each take a minute, calm ourselves down, and relax before any more blood vessels threaten to burst. Alright?"

Sam sees that his brother's expression has softened and, when he speaks, the younger Winchester hears not one trace of the usual arrogance or attitude that usually accommpanies it. "Sure Sammy. Sounds good. I think you're right. I do need a minute to rest. After all, I was laying into your pretty good back there wasn't I?" Scoffs. "Well, just a gentle reminder my baby brother, and I thought you of all people would know this, I am THE master of verbal manipulation and tit-for-tats and WILL be the last man standing every single time."

After he proudly states the facts of his superiority on this particular subject, Dean lets out a deep sigh, pinches the bridge of his nose and runs his hand slowly down his face.

"Hey man, you doing alright?"

"Um... yeah, yeah, I'm good. But Sammy? Maybe it's time we seriously thought about gettin' some grub? I'm feeling... I don't know..." A gentle shake of his head. "...a bit light-headed, and really tired, and my fricken head seems to be beating out some kind of annoying techno-babble rhythm against my skull. I keep fading in and out like I can't think straight. Food might help that right?"

Sam notices his brother as he looks to him, looks at him as if to search for his younger brother's approval of the idea. Sam opts to nod his head in silent agreement and watches Dean do the same. "Good Sam. That's good. Thanks. You go, I'll stay here." Yes, definitely. By the appearance of his older brother right now, Sam figures water and drugs should also be high up on the list for Dean.

As he takes a moment to complete a visual scan of his brother, Sam thinks he looks as though he has aged 10 years in the past 24 hours. Dark bags now make ugly circles around Dean's usually vibrant eyes, the same eyes which now look dull and very tired indeed. His face seems to wear a kind of permanent etch of pain, like it has been sown right in. Sam figures the combination of physical and emotional stress that his older sibling has endured, not only this night, but pretty much EVERY night for the past few years has caught up to him, all at once, and is wreaking vengence in the nastiest of ways on his brother's psyche. It makes him appear more frail than Sam has ever seen him. The younger Winchester does not know how much juice is left in Dean's batteries but figures they are running very, very low. Sam decides if Dean wants something as simple as some food then who is he to say no?

"Sounds awesome, feeling a bit peckish myself now that you mention it. I think the burger joint in town should be up and runnin' and be able to meet the challenge of serving up some food to satisfy your delicate taste buds. Dean, I will go, I will leave you here, but please, while I am gone, just humour me and sit still, relax, and don't overdo it. Can you manage that?"

"Fine Sam. But, I am going to have to make one move. I have to make it over to the head before we end up with another awkward situation on our hands...or on the bed...or on the floor. You catch my meaning?" Brief pause. "And, one more thing, I need to get out of this fricken bed for a while bro', don't you know this sort of laying around all day can make a person prone to rashes or something? And, to top it off, my ASS is in serious jeopardy of falling asleep here and I do need my ass in fine, fully functional order at all times you know?" He concludes with his signature waggle of the eyebrows and Sam can't help it as he breaks out a smile and giggles. Ah, it sure feels good to laugh once in a while. Whatever shit they've seen, whatever shit they've done, no matter what else is going on with the two brothers, Dean has the ability to ALWAYS manage to deliver a laugh. "Hey? Chuckles? One more thing. Before you make your usual mother hen comment let me just save you the trouble. NO, I DO NOT need any help to take a leak!" Sam opens his mouth to get a word out in edgewise but Dean cuts him off quickly at the pass. "Damn it Sam, I am not an invalid and I have made it to the bathroom just a few times without your help! Just let me do this one small thing. Well, truth be told, small is not the word I, or others, would use." A full blown laugh escapes Dean's mouth as he enjoys the amazing-ness of his wit. "You just go out, I'll go in, to that little room in the corner over there, and why don't we agree to rendezvous in the main foyer area of our luxury suite at, let's say, that table just over there. Okay?"

The youngest brother feels uneasy and not at all comfortable with the idea of leaving Dean alone for any period of time, but the more he stalls with the answer the more daggers he can feel fly at him. Even when he is hurt and not operating at full capacity, the glare that Dean can unleash is still a little unnerving, even to Sam who has seen it a thousand times before. He is concerned that his stubborn brother will just decide to clam up, about everything and anything if he voices his worry outloud. Because Sam doesn't want to lose the semblence of momentum they are gaining with all this talking stuff, he decides to make only an itsy-bitsy suggestion instead of an all out disagreement to his brother's plan.

"How about a slight compromise on the topic Dean? How about I stay for a minute, just to make sure that you can actually make it off the bed and can stay on your feet without collapsing. If you pass that little test I will go. What do you say?" Sam, of course, is ready for an argument, a sarcastic volley or twelve served over to him or maybe some kind of random rationalization as to how stupid this whole thing is but, he is NOT ready for an uncharacteristic move on Dean's part. His older brother relents...without even an iota of a fight flowing through him.

"I can live with that Sammy." Dean slowly swings his legs over the side of the bed and pushes off with his hands. He quickly grabs on to the conveniently located nightstand as obvious waves of pain and dizziness course through him. "Wait Sam, just wait. Stay where you are man, I'm okay." Dean's grip on the nightstand eases and Sam detects a slight waver in his brother's posture as he fights to keep control of his balance. Feet firmly in place, satisfied he won't be doing a nosedive to get up close and personal to the less-than-sanitary carpet, Dean heads towards the bathroom in what can be best described as baby steps. He arrives at the door and announces his success to his brother.

"Ok Sammy, made it. Now, off you go. And, I demand that you include a ginormous coffee in the bag of goodies you bring back." Dean moves to close the door but, still feeling unsure, Sam remains where he is. Dean's head peeks around the edge of the door. "Hey, dude? I can hear you thinking out there. And, YOUR thinking is hurting MY head! You think way too much Sammy. Thinking is just a waste. Don't think, just decide and do."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, I'm going. I'll be back in a flash. Don't overdo it while I'm gone!"

Sam hears the muffled voice of his older brother as it travels through the now closed door. "Take it easy Samantha. Don't go speeding around town, don't put my baby's life on the line. No crashing her into anything or anyone in your mad dash to get back to your babysitting duties. Go already, and bring me back a damned cup of coffee. Bitch."

"Yeah, whatever. See ya. Jerk."

*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*

As Sam pulls into the motel parking lot, he feels like he's been gone from Dean for hours and hours. When he looks at the time though, he finds it has only been about thirty minutes. God, I think I am due for some shut eye. Grabbing his haul of the usual suspects, including a burger loaded with Dean's favourtie artery blocking materials, two salads, hoping his brother won't feel up to the heart-attack-on-a-bun option, and two what are they called, ginormous coffees?, Sam locks up the Impala and heads for the door.

The vibe Sam gets as he walks through that door is definitely not a good one. No Dean at the table. No Dean on the bed. As Sam looks around and feels inches away from reaching the panic zone, he spots the light coming from under the bathroom door. Whew, that was close, almost lost my cool there. Placing coffees, burgers, salads and car keys on the table, he announces his arrival. "Honey! I'm home! Dinner is served!" No response. "Sheesh, Dean, do I have to start bringing and ringing a dinner bell to get you to move your ass and come eat?" Still. No. Answer. Not too worried yet, Sam walks over and gently raps his knuckles on the door. "Dean? Everything a'right in there? Did your numb ass get stuck on the can?" No answer. Okay, I can hear water running. Don't panic yet, maybe he just can't hear me. Checking the door Sam feels a rush of relief to discover it's unlocked. Small miracles are better than no miracles I guess.

As Sam turns the knob he keeps talking in hopes of getting some sort of response. "OK Dean, sorry if you are enjoying some time in your happy place right now but I am coming in." The door opens slowly and as Sam scans every part of the room, his eyes come to rest on and keep hold of Dean's form. Ok, good, at least he is still here. Ok, very bad, he is so not in his happy place right now. The older of the two brothers is kneeling in front of the sink, rocking back and forth, hands firmly planted on his head. Sam moves in to shut off the taps and that is what seems to stop the rocking motion of his brother instantly but the hands remain where they are. Sam then kneels in front of his brother.

"Hey man. Dean, what's going on with you right now?"

Dean's eyes remain closed but at least Sam gets a response from him. "S'm? That you? S'm?" Sam hears his brother's voice crack and as he looks more closely he sees the tell-tale signs of someone who has been crying. Alot.

"Yeah, Dean. It's me. I'm here. I said I'd be right back remember?"

"What? Oh yeah...that's right. You got my coffee?"

"Got it. But, first, can you tell me why you're in here? Can you tell me what happened?"

"Head is on fire. Can't think. Can't move. So much pain. Always in pain. Too much pain. Overwhelming. Decided to stay here."

"Oh kay. Did you, do you see something?" Sam asks the question as gently as possible but he stills sees the flinch it causes in Dean. C'mon bro, let me in. Let me help you this time. "Dean, what did you see?"

A few moments go by. Sam can see the conflict in his brother's features. It's like he wants to tell, he wants to share, but he doesn't want to be a burden to his baby brother. Always looking out for everyone but himself. It's okay Dean, we will get through whatever this is together. Just trust me. Please.

Dean clears his throat, looks to the ground and starts to whisper out a rush of information, as if stopping to think or consider what he was saying would make him pause, make him push it all back inside to never be reached again. As his brother starts, as Sam listens, as the horrors that consumed and still consume his brother are articulated in Dean's own words, Sam suddenly wishes he hadn't pushed his brother to this. But, that is just a fleeting thought as Dean's despair and torture reinforce Sam's resolve to help him. Somehow. He has to find a way to help Dean.

"Hell S'mmy. I can see Hell. I see it as if I was still there. I can smell the flesh, my flesh, burning, charring, turning to ash." Shuddering breath. "I can hear. Hear the screams, my screams, as my skin burns and bubbles and peels from my bones." Sob. Another sob. "But, it's not just that. It's Alistair. He could." Tears welling up in eyes. "He could change. He could make himself appear to me in any form. Of anyone. Anyone Sam." Looks up and stares directly into Sam's eyes before dropping his gaze back to the floor. "You. Dad. Mom. Jess. He appeared to me as you. He appeared to me as dad. As mom. As Jess. And as I smelt my burning flesh, as I heard my screams, as I saw my skin burn and bubble I also saw you. and dad. and mom. and jess. You would laugh as I burned. Dad would laugh as I screamed. Mom would laugh as my skin bubbled. Jess would laugh as I was once again made whole, and then it would start. All. Over. Again."

**TBC...**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello all. Well, here is the latest chapter. I am a little bummed out because the site crashed right while I was typing it up last night and although I do save continuously, some of the changes I had made were gone. Ah, the pain of it all... :) But, I hope you will enjoy it just the same! Thanks again for reading and commenting, it does the heart good.**

Well, he asked for it right? And did he ever get it. There it is. One admission by his brother. And it has just changed Sam forever.

"God, Dean." It's all that Sam can manage to say. He remains where he is, in front of his now trembling brother and he searches but can find no more words. Yes, it's true, the big moment had arrived. The moment where his big, strong, tough-as-nails, stubborn brother, the person who Sam has looked up to his entire life, who he has harassed and needled and poked and prodded at forever to let him in, to open up and tell him his troubles, has actually let out some of those deep, dark secrets to his baby brother. But Sam feels no sense of victory in that. No rush of joy in getting his brother to talk. This, this admission by Dean is no victory. It's devastating. In every way. As he tries to absorb the scope of it, to somehow come to terms with the flurry of horrific images that his brother has now ingrained in his mind, Sam feels something alright but it sure the hell isn't victory, it sure as hell isn't joy. He feels anger. No, make that pure and unabashed rage. He feels fear. He feels helplessness. Hopelessness. He feels despair, horror, shame. And on top of all of those swirling emotions he feels an intense and utter sadness. Sadness at what has happened to his hero. To his big brother. What costs he has paid and the curse that he now will forever bear. There is also a surge of pure physical pain, a sickness in the pit of his stomach. One thing he doesn't feel, not amongst all those others, nor could he ever feel, is a sense of victory. Not about this. Not ever about this. Because in this there is no winner.

Sam snaps out of his thoughts and turns his full attention back to his brother. His brother, who now needs for the younger one to step up, to be strong, to take charge of the situation and deal. It's Sam's turn now. To take care of his brother. To tell him he's alright, that he's got him and is never going to let him go. To snap him back to reality, to the hear and now. Yes, it's his turn. To be there, in whatever way possible, for Dean.

First order of business? Get off this damn floor and out of the confined space of the bathroom. "Dean?" Sam sees a slight tilt of his brother's head. Okay, he hears me, that's good. "Look, I know that you are hurting in all kinds of ways right now, ways that I can't possibly begin to understand, but let's try and get you up and out of this room. Do you think you can stand?" Sam looks at his face and although Dean's eyes are closed and no words come from him, he gives a small movement of his head which Sam interprets as a nod. "Okay, good. You need to grab onto my arm and then we will get up together. Just take it easy and let me do the work okay?" Another nod. "Ready?" Dean grabs hold of Sam with a strength that surprises the younger brother. He can sense it in his brother's grip. Fear. He's terrified. "Good job Dean. Now, I am going to start to get up, you just hang on okay and you will come up with me." As Sam rises, he keeps hold of his brother's arm and as they both stand, he hurries to wrap Dean's left arm around his shoulder and lets him lean into him so most of his brother's weight is transferred on to Sam. "Alright, almost there, you are doing great bro. You set the pace Dean and I'll match it. Okay?" His brother doesn't respond but Sam feels him take a tentative step forward. Good thing Sam's grip is strong as it seems his older brother's legs have decided to turn into jelly.

"S'ry Sammy. S'ry. Can't help much."

"Shhh, it's okay Dean. Don't apologize, nothing to be sorry for. That' what little brothers are for. Well, Sasquatch-sized little brothers at least, right?" Sam hopes for a smart-aleck comment from his older sibling but he is met only by silence. The two brothers continue along their methodical journey, one small step at a time. Sam ponders briefly on whether they should make their way towards the bed, but he really wants to keep Dean grounded, doesn't want him to drift aimlessly towards the pit again, so instead he chooses a path that will take them to the table at the other end of the room.

As they arrive at their destination, Sam gently guides his brother into one of the chairs. He releases his grip on him but remains standing, ready to lend a hand if his older brother can't steady himself. Once Dean seems secure and Sam feels he won't suddenly fly off the chair from losing his balance, the younger brother looks at his face and notices something. He sees him swallow... then swallow again... then one more time... and then he seems to turn a sickly, greyish-green shade right before Sam's eyes.

Ok. Got it. As he begins to clear off the table at a rapid pace, Sam realizes that perhaps sitting his feeling-like-shit at the moment brother at a table that currently stores, at best, a lukewarm array of greasy fast food fare, is not the best of ideas, unless of course you are purposely trying to encourage the gag reflex.

"S'okay Dean. I got it, no worries. Just relax and take some deep breaths and the nausea will pass." Dean does as he's told and, in a minute or two, Sam can see a slightly better hue to his brother's face and senses he is once again in control and not going to spew. Having disposed of all the offending items, the younger Winchester takes a seat in the chair across from Dean. "Better? Not gonna hurl are you?" A slight shake of the head. "Okay, that's good. I don't think you've eaten for a day so there wouldn't have been much to get rid of anyway so why bother with the show right?" Pause. "Listen Dean, I can tell that you are in a lot of physical pain just by looking at you, and also from the fact that you just don't seem to want to bother to try and open those pretty eyes of yours. So that tells me, and don't forget I went to college, that it's time we get some water and some more pills into that body of yours to at the very least give you a slim ounce of relief from the pain that you feel. You also need to try and get some sort of food into your system. I'll go and grab the water and meds for you. Don't go anywhere." Dean speaks up before Sam is even halfway up from his chair.

"No. No Sam."

Wasn't really expecting that. Sam sits back down and decides on another tactic. "C'mon Dean, you did say earlier that you were feeling light-headed right? I really think it would help with the migraine you got going on right now and you need to get some energy and spring back in your step."

"No Sam. The pills. No pills. They put me...sleep. Don't wanna. No sleep. Don't make me sleep. S'mmy, please. Please no sleep."

The plea Sam hears woven into his brother's voice evokes a deep pang of sadness within him. God, it just is not fair. It just seems to be a torrent of unrelenting torture that is being born by his brother. Can Dean even rest his mind for a moment? Can he ever truly be at rest again? There just has to be a way, and Sam is determined to help. The younger brother then realizes that this statement from his brother, this plea is another opportunity. An opportunity he has been given to talk, to honestly and openly talk with his brother. To try to understand what it is that he sees in the dead of night, if he has been suffering like this every single night. Sam wants to hopefully alleviate even in some small way the burdens his big brother has to carry around with him each and every day. So, when Sam finally speaks, he goes for his best 'I can help you if you let me' spiel. He hopes it works.

"Okay Dean, I won't make you do anything you don't want to but your body needs to rest. You are exhausted, worn out, obviously in a lot of pain and look like your body may just collapse onto the table any time now. I'm sorry man but you know you can't stay awake forever, that eventually your body's need is going to win out over your pure will and determination to not let it." Sam pauses, unsure of how to proceed with what he really wants to ask. Don't be a chicken Sam, not now. "What is it that you are so terrified of? Can you tell me why Dean, why you so desperately want to stay awake when your body craves for sleep? Do you see the same images that you did earlier?" No response. "I am right here man, you can talk to me. Always. You can trust me to listen." Sam pauses for a moment. "What happens when you close your eyes, what exactly do you see behind them? Please Dean, you need to let some of these things out, to let me shoulder some of the weight of them. Let me try to help you."

Sam now can hear Dean's breaths coming out a little faster, watches as he places his elbows on the table with a grunt that Sam is sure is a result from his sore ribs. Huh, almost forgot about those. He places his head into his hands. "I don't know S'm. Don't wanna put this on you. Protect you. Not hurt you." A slight sob follows. "my burden, not yours. can't talk about it yet. just, not yet okay?"

Disappointed but not ready to push, Sam reaches out to touch him. "Alright Dean, you don't have to tell me right now but remember, we are in this together. You need to stop trying to protect me from everything. I want to help you, you can trust me." Sam pauses for a moment. "Well, I have to insist that you do have some water and try to eat something okay?"

Dean actually lifts his head up and looks into his brother's face. Well, squints into his face would be a better term. Sam is amazed once again at this person before him, who just happens to be his brother, because as he returns Dean's gaze, his older brother actually flashes a smile. "I think I need my coffee first S'my. Need a recharge." Sam sighs but figures this is a battle HE won't win so gives into his brother's need for caffeine. After a quick warm-up in the microwave Sam watches and smirks when Dean actually lets out a satisfied moan as the liquid goes down his throat. "Feelin' better already Sammy, thanks."

The brothers sit at the table in comfortable silence while they enjoy their ginormous coffees. Sam notices that as time goes on his brother is coming back a bit, no longer trapped and consumed by the demons that plague is mind. Hmm, maybe we just need to take a lot of coffee breaks when we're on the road. Huh. "Okay Sammy, your turn." Sam raises his eyes and eyebrows to his brother at the question, giving him the 'what do you mean' stance.

"To talk Sam. Nothing helps a big brother like me stay awake more than watching his little brother go on and on about different tales of splendor and grandeur." What the hell is he talking about? "But, since our lives don't really supply much material on the splendory and grandiose side of life, why don't you just make it a story about, oh, I don't know, how about a tale about a truck?" Sam's coffee almost goes through his nose at Dean's question. He watches his older sibling lean forward and as you gets closer and closer to Sam he looks him directly in the eye. "You know I haven't forgotten our little 'conversation' from earlier Sam and now it's your time to fess up, to spill it. What is the story on this supposedly killer-truck that had my number last night? Do tell."

Ugh. Sam was hoping that this little issue had been swept under the carpet. Obviously not. Sam feels a bit nervous and not prepared to be the one who wipes the smug and slightly condescending smirk that his brother is currently sporting off his face. But, he wants to know and Sam thinks he should know so, with a nod and a deep breath he gets ready to deliver his retelling of events from the evening before.

"Okay Dean, you win, it is my turn. But, let me just say that you are not going to like it. Not at all." Did Sam just see his brother gulp? He waits and once he sees his big brother nod in agreement he starts to tell the tale. The tale of 'The Killer Truck who Had Dean's Number'. Yeah, that's a good title.

**TBC.. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi folks! Here is the latest installment in the Sam&Dean talk kinda, sometimes saga! As always, comments are most welcome and totally appreciated. And thank you to all who have stuck by this story with me to see where the brothers end up! Enjoy!**

Sam gets up, grabs two bottles of water, two pills and swipes the salads off the counter. He sits the goods on the table and pushes a salad, water and the pills to his brother. "Try to eat something Dean, you really do need to get your strength back. I know, it's not your favourite entree but at least try okay? The water and pills are there when you need them."

"Quit your stalling Sammy. Get to the tale."

Okay. Showtime. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Um. Cemetery. Ugly spirit bitch. Something about marshmellows? Weird eh? Huh, not much else. Hmm... don't remember getting out of there or ending up here. I suppose I took a beating right?" He finishes with a kinda chuckle.

"Yeah, of course you did, you know, the usual stuff. And, by the way, you did make a comment about marshmellows. How we should bring them along on our cemetery raids?"

"Hmm, that ain't a half bad idea bro, we should do that. THAT would be awesome!"

"Sure. Anyway, you started acting a bit, shall we say, ODD soon after the knock you took to your head. You were all over the place man. Happy, then sad, then totally irate. Like I said, all over the place and not making too much sense. I didn't get too worked up about it at the time cuz, you know, you DID just get your head slammed and your body beat so it seemed to fit." Sam stops to take a drink and dreads the telling of this next part of the story. He is going to end up hurting his brother and that is the last thing he wants to do.

"Ok, I'm with you so far little brother. But, there is more to tell right so please, indulge me." The tone is light but the look on Dean's face plays a different tune. Sam thinks that his brother is feeling the exact same dread that is within him.

"Well, I knew something was seriously misfiring in that head of yours when you mentioned," Pause. "dad..." Sam's eyes lock with Dean's. "..as if he were still alive Dean. Like somehow you transported yourself, or at least your mind, into the past. It was so weird, you didn't even believe that you had the keys to the car. Because, apparently, DAD would never let his, and I'm quoting here, would never let his no good for nothing son touch his keys." Well, perhaps a bit of paraphrasing but Sam distinctly remembers the no good for nothing part of that sentence as it had rolled from his brother's lips last night. Last night? God, it feels like they have been camped out in this damned motel room for days and days.

Silence from Dean. Sam tries to gauge Dean's reaction to what he has just heard but sees that his brother once again has that nobody's home right now, leave a message and I'll get back to you look in his eyes. Not good. "Dean? You okay? Do you need me to stop? Should we take a break?" More silence. "C'mon Dean, snap out of it man." Sam is just about to change to a more aggressive mode with his brother when he hears his fragile voice.

"He tells me Sam." Dean wrings his hands around the water bottle as he seems to talk into the table, head down, eyes down. "He tells me. How worthless I am. How useless I am. How I am a waste of air and space. How he regrets saving me. How he wasted his life on his no good for nothing son. He tells me that I am nothing but a disappointment and constant failure to everyone. He tells me that he should have just let me die, that it would make him happy, that it would make mom happy, that it would make you happy. He tells me that it would make everyone who has ever known me happy. He tells me that I should just die already, just give in, give up and die."

"Dean."

"He tells me Sam. Every. Single. Night."

Sam sucks in a breath. Woah. This? THIS is what Dean sees when he sleeps? Every night? "You know that isn't true right Dean? You know he would never say those things. Not dad. That isn't him speaking to you. He saved you because he loves you, because he saw a chance to help you and he took it. Without discussion, without question, without debate, he took it. Because YOU Dean. YOU were and are worth it." Sam waits and watches his brother. He sees a slow shake of Dean's head and Sam knows he has to pull out all the stops because his big brother actually believes the things that haunt him every night. He believes the words and Sam fears that his brother also believes he should have died then, that maybe he should die now.

"He's right Sam. I am a failure. I couldn't kill that damned demon which led to the possession which led to the car crash which led to dad making that stupid, friggin deal! So, really, to be honest Sam, it was ME! Me, I am the one that got my own father killed! Of course he hates me!" Uh-oh, Sam now witnesses a level of pure loathing ooze out of his older sibling. Not loathing towards Sam or dad or anyone else, this hatred is directed at Dean alone. Sam starts to feel panic as his brother's tirade picks up in emotion, tempo and volume. "God Sam, how can YOU not hate me? Jess Sam. Jess died because I came to you for help, because I can't do anything alone. I always have to drag someone down with me! But you? Of all people, why did I have to bring this kind of bullshit into YOUR life! Why couldn't I just leave you alone? You were so happy and naive and I took it all away from you." Dean ends his rant with a double-fisted punch to the table. He's seething now, almost unable to control his temper, like he just wants to lash out at something, anything to unload some of his frustration and immense guilt.

"Please Dean! Calm down! You are getting way, way to worked up about things that don't have one speck of truth to them!" Not working. Dean's self hatred has been unleashed and it doesn't appear that he is quite done tearing himself a new one yet.

"And what about you Sam? I am supposed to look out for you right? Remember, that's my one job, my one fricken job in this screwed up life of mine and I couldn't even do that right! I saw you Sammy. You looked so happy and relieved that I was there, that I made it in time to save you from that freakin experiment of yellow-eyes but of course I didn't quite get there in time did I? I watched Sam, as that knife tore into you. I held on to you as you took your last breath. I let it happen Sammy and I can never forgive myself. I failed you in the worst possible way."

No no no! You are NOT going to blame yourself for that. Not on my watch. "Dean, how can you possibly believe that you have failed me? In any way? You have sacrificed everything for me. You always have. You have done nothing wrong by me." His brother's head is still shaking, still not buying one word coming out of Sam's mouth. "What happened to Jess WAS NOT your fault. That would have happened whether you came back into my life or not. That blame falls on my shoulders alone. What happened to me WAS NOT your fault. It was the demon Dean! What happened to dad WAS NOT your fault. God Dean, why? Why do you need to blame yourself for everything that is out of your control? You brought me back Dean, you made me whole again but at what price? What has your guilt over that cost YOU Dean?"

"Cost me? Who cares! What difference does it make to anything about the cost to me? The cost to me doesn't matter. The cost is irrelevant." Sam can't believe what Dean is saying. Irrelevant? "No, it's not about me Sam. The most important thing is you. That you are here, alive. Don't you get it? You have another chance to live! To have the kind of life you want, that deserve. Don't you see Sammy? This is your chance! To get away from all this. Away from hunting, away from witnessing the horrors, the very worst of this life and sometimes the very worst of the next life! And most of all Sam, this is your chance to finally get away from ME! I am poison Sam. You know it. No, maybe you don't notice it at first but slowly, over time, being around me will kill you. And, as we have already seen over and over, it will be slow and very painful." Sam just stares at his brother, who looks to him as if he is awaiting his younger brother's agreement to what he has just said. Sam says nothing and Dean presses on.

"So you do see now right Sammy? That damn deal was my one opportunity to do something of worth in my life. I couldn't let you die Sam, I just couldn't. Whatever personal demons I have to carry, whatever I have to deal with from here on out, I brought those on myself and I deserve to deal with them. I deserve every single thing that happens to me. You Sam, you are the only one that matters. Not me. Never me."

Sam remains silent. Unbelievable. Dean actually thinks he DESERVES all that is happening to him. That is so twisted and so wrong and so very messed up. Sam always knew his big brother had some 'issues' but man, he is totally frigged up, more than Sam thought possible. Just how in the hell is Sam supposed to fix this?

**TBC...**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi everyone. Here is the latest chapter for you to peruse. Thanks again, I am loving all the comments and reviews. They are great! I hope you enjoy this latest installment! Until next time... :-)**

"You see now right Sammy? It's okay, you don't have to stay anymore. No reason to stay."

Sam feels his level of patience starting to fade. Just shut up already Dean.

"You don't even have to say anything. Just leave. Get up, walk through that door and NEVER look back."

In 3...2...1... Yup, patience has officially come to an end.

"Are you just about done, you stubborn ass? Because I don't think I can sit here and listen to one more second of this BULLSHIT! There isn't a shovel big enough in the world that has the capability to scoop up the amount of CRAP that you have just unloaded!" Sam now paces back and forth on the carpet, trying to keep his temper, his emotions in check. But with this particular big brother, that is a talent that can, and is, tested to its limits on an all too regular basis it seems.

"See! That's it Sam! You got it! That is exactly my point! You're tired of all the bullshit, the everyday crap that you have to put up with just because we happen to be brothers. So don't sit here! You don't want to stay, so don't!"

Does he ever listen to me? Does he even hear me? He just keeps at it, on and on and on he goes.

"C'mon Sam, you don't have to pretend anymore. You wanted me to talk so here I am, talking. That's what we are doing in here right? Talking? So, aren't I telling you what you want to hear? Letting it all out, giving you an up close and personal looksie into what my screwed up head is thinking? So there you have it. There it is out in the open for you to see. I am so screwed up Sammy in every way so hit the road dude and you will be happy that you did."

Round and round it goes. Twisting every thing, every word into meaning that I would be better off without him, that I should just leave. Give it a rest already.

"You know leaving is the right thing to do Sam. You know it's what you want to do. In your heart Sam, you know it. Now that we are letting all of our feelings out why don't you finally just admit it."

Sam starts to feel an odd sensation. He feels some sort of what, a twitch start in his eye? That's a new one. Dean, you are now making my god damned eye twitch! No one makes Sam's eye twitch without being on the receiving end of some whoop-ass!

"NO! None of what you are saying is true! None of what you are saying even makes any sense! God, Dean, where do I start? Which one of your asinine theories of the day should I begin with? And another thing, stop twisting around my words, or ANY fricken words from anyone for that matter! You and I are NOT here as an opportunity for you to convince me that you are useless and no good and not worth the time of day! You are wasting you breath because that is NEVER GONNA HAPPEN! You are not getting rid of me, I am not walking out the door and I am not ever going to leave you! I want to help you, not leave you... you IDIOT!"

"Hmm... I guess I really hit a nerve with that one huh dude?" Giggle. "Hey, have you noticed that your eye is twitching?"

Yeah, thanks Dean, I hadn't noticed that. And stop trying to change the subject! Sam closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. Just relax Sam. Just remember that all the cards in Dean's deck are out of order. He's not being rational, he's not being reasonable, he is not himself. Just relax. Sam wonders how off the rails their next attempt at a 'normal' conversation will be and opens his eyes to try and start again. When he glances over at his brother however he sees him with an open bottle of water and an intense gaze directed at the two little pills still laying on the table. As the younger brother continues to watch, he can tell that Dean is obviously weighing in his mind the pros and cons of whichever course of action he chooses. As he grabs hold of one of the pills Sam realizes that his brother's body has finally won the fight. The pain he is in outweighing any horrors he may see when he shuts his eyes. Sam approaches him and speaks in a slow, calm and soothing voice.

"I'll be right here Dean. Whatever happens. You will not be alone." Without another word Dean downs the pills and Sam sees a flicker of fear flash across his face. "Do you think you need to lay down for a bit?"

"No Sam. I'm okay. The table is good for now. Now what? Are we at an impasse? You still convinced that staying here with me is what you really want?"

Okay, this direction of the conversation is actually a good one. Sam feels his mind drift for a moment. Who knows, maybe all of this drama can be chalked up to Dean just suffering from some version of male PMS? Hormones out of whack? Sane and rational one minute and then like a raving lunatic the next? Well, probably not but at least that would have meant there was some sort of logical explanation for all of this. Wow, grasp at straws much Sam? Please get some rest, some food and water in you bro, I don't know how much more self-abuse I can witness in one outing.

"Listen Dean, can we try to do a little more talking? Rationally this time? Maybe we can try to talk like two semi sort of adults? Maybe without any yelling and stuff?" A nod from his brother is good enough for Sam. "Just bear in mind that I am not going to leave, I won't be going anywhere without you. You will never change my mind on that okay? I think it is safe to say that your convincing me to leave tactic is not working and no longer worthy of discussion. You are stuck with me so too bad, so sad. Are we clear on that bro?" Another nod from Dean. "Okay, now, I do have one question for you, one thing I would like you to try and explain to me about all of this. Can you tell me why YOU want me to leave? What's the real reason for this big show of yours? Why were you so adamant that I leave you here by yourself? You're scared of something Dean. What are you scared of if I stay? What do you think is going to happen?" Sam listens and waits for Dean to formulate his thoughts on the question.

"Sometimes I feel like I am losing my mind. I can't tell..."

Sam needs to prod a little more as it seems Dean is having a harder time keeping his thoughts together. "You can't tell what Dean?"

"What's real. I don't know. Is it real or am I just slowly going crazy?"

"Tell me Dean. Tell me what it is that you aren't sure about? Maybe I can help give you an answer." Please. Sam's eyes shift onto Dean.

Woah. It looks like those pills are already doing a number on his big brother. That was quick. Slow to look up. Glassy eyes. Well, I suppose drugs plus no food plus no sleep plus a lot of mental and physical anguish probably up the ante in the 'getting high really quickly' category.

"Dad. It seems so real to me. You know, I tried to be the perfect son. Always listened, did what I was asked to. No question, just followed orders." Pause "Does he really? Does he really want me to die Sammy? Does he really wish I was dead? I don't know... it just seems so... real." As Sam gazes at his brother he sees a silent tear track down his face. He is so very damaged. Good thing Sam knows the answer to this one, without any question or doubt.

"No Dean. That is most definitely NOT real. Never. Dad loved you. He may have had a hard time showing it to you, or to me but he loved us, in his own way, he loved us with his whole being. You were his rock Dean, his one true constant. Always there, to help, to heal, to be there for him in any and every way. He made that deal Dean but not to hurt you, and certainly not to haunt you. He made it because he truly wanted to save you. He knew what he was doing and he wanted to do it, for his son. For you Dean, because he DIDN'T want you to die. And neither do I Dean. I never, ever want to see that again. Once in a lifetime is more than enough for me. Please Dean, believe me, no one wants you to die."

Sam wants to broach another topic with his brother now that he seems to be making some headway. He feels sick just thinking about it and the reaction it illicited the last time he asked. But, he needs to know, and he needs Dean to tell him. Honestly. Truthfully.

"Dean? I'm sorry but I need to talk about one more thing. Last night, when we were driving back to the motel, you started freaking out in the car so I pulled over to check on you. You were totally out of it man, clutching your head, muttering away about things that you were seeing in your mind. It was a little scary but then you kinda went into this zen mode, a don't worry, everything is going to be fine now kind of zone." Pause. "You told me that you knew what you had to do, what would make all of it stop for good, that you had seen a sign." Sam looks at Dean and sees confusion and fear on his features. You've gone this far, finish it Sam. "You got out of the car and started walking across the road. Dean, you were purposely trying to get to a truck that was driving on the other side. I was there and I saw it Dean, you wanted that truck to kill you." Sam meets his brother's gaze for a moment but he feels his eyes get misty and not wanting to break out in tears, Sam looks down at the top of the table. Boy, this table hasn't been stared at so much in its entire existence. After he takes a moment to calm himself, Sam picks his head back up to gauge his brother's state of mind.

Sam sees that the tears are flowing freely down Dean's face now, his emotions rising up and overcoming the protective walls that surround him. Dean buries his face in his hands and Sam thinks perhaps he has reached him, on some level, because there, right in front of him is his big brother. And his brother is crying.

**TBC...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello again to everyone and Happy Friday! Well, this is kind of a short-ish chapter, Dean opens up a bit and Sam learns some stuff. I hope that you enjoy. As always, any comments or reviews are greatly appreciated and are always a highlight of my day! Until the next chapter... :)**

Those tears tell Sam more than words ever could. Sam believes he now knows the answer to his question. And the answer is yes. As he stares at his broken brother, Sam's heart breaks almost more than he can stand. The answer is yes, and the realization hits him like a tonne of bricks. His big brother Dean, so strong, so stubborn, so larger-than-life, is actually teetering on the edge of the abyss. Because the answer is yes. Yes. Sometimes, at some moments, Dean really does want to die.

"Dean? Hey, look at me. Let me know you're okay, that you're still hanging in there."

Weary eyes lock onto Sam and the pain and sadness and fatigue the younger brother sees in them is profound. "S'my? Yeah, still here." Pause. "But, I don't know what to do. What am I supposed to do?" Sniffle. "What does it mean? When I don't remember being there, on that road, waiting for that truck, but at the same time I don't feel surprised? Not at all. What does it mean?" Pause. Hand drags down his face. Another sniffle. "Inside me, behind all the bullshit and bravado, inside, in the very depths of my soul, is it true Sammy? Is it? Deep down in my gut, do I really want to die?" A shiver tracks through Dean's body as he voices those words aloud and Sam finds that he is having trouble forming a response. Everything is different now. Things have just changed. Dean has just admitted something major, something terrifying. Here is Sam's brother, who usually can't admit to something as mundane as a headache, shaking in front of him as he faces the darkness he feels within him. And out loud yet. It is just so bizarre. Sam knows that this must be scaring the hell out of his brother, just like it is scaring the hell out of him. "I guess this is how it goes down hey Sam? When I finally crack?" Sam then hears a giggle. A very, very unconvincing giggle.

"You haven't cracked Dean. I mean, c'mon, you were always a bit scrambled right but never cracked." A slight smile graces Sam's face as he sees the smirk his brother wears in response to his comment. "I think it's just that right now, here in this motel room, for whatever reason, you seem to be starting to face the things that scare you the most. The things that you have worked so hard to keep bottled up inside are now bubbling up to the surface." Pause. "But we are going to figure it out Dean. Together. I promise, we will figure this out." A moment passes and Sam watches as his brother's eyes drift closed. "But right now, I really think you should take a break Dean. Those pills are working overtime and you need to let your body AND your mind relax." Dean seems to have other ideas however as he continues on.

"I am just so damned tired Sam. Each and every day. All the time. I just want to rest. I just want some peace. Why am I not allowed to ever, ever have just even one single night of peace? Why do I have to suffer like this day in and day out? Why have I been cursed with this never ending torture?" Pause. Deep breath. "It's my head you know? It is always on, always amped up to the highest decibel. Never shutting down. Never stopping. Never silent." Unenthused chuckle. "Huh, the least it could do is play some Metallica, not all the time but just once in a while, is that too much to ask? Just a little something I could hum along to for a second? A little splash of light in the all consuming darkness?" Another chuckle. "Yeah, right, I wish."

Sam decides to just let his brother set the pace, to talk for as long as he wants, about whatever he wants. He has never been this open with his younger sibling before so go Dean, let the secrets come out. Let them flow. Ease the burden on your mind. Share them. Let it out. All of it. Keep going.

Sam can't help but be amazed at how Dean is like an open book right now. He continues to talk softly, almost like he is having a conversation with himself. Sam keeps quiet and just absorbs what he hears. He doesn't want to interrupt, to possibly halt the flow of information that is spilling in a constant stream from his brother's mouth. As Sam listens, he realizes he never really knew the true level of Dean's pain. Those damned walls of his. But when they crumble, man, you do not want to be standing anywhere near them. The fallout is ugly. And cruel. And mind blowing. The younger Winchester can hardly believe that his big brother has been able to keep himself going this long without some sort of meltdown. Then again, it looks like today is the day that the meltdown has made its appearance. Thank God Dean is not alone when it finally happens.

As Dean continues on, things start to make more and more sense to his little brother. The constant need to find the next job. The need to drink. The need to flirt. The need to stay up late and get up early. Or, maybe to not sleep at all. Sam's eyes are being opened wider and wider with every sentence that escapes his brother's lips. He just hopes that Dean will continue to talk to him when they leave the confines of this room and are back on the road. Because this kind of pain, this kind of torment can not be cured in one sitting, at one table, in one motel room, in Anytown USA.

Sam's musings come to an end when he hears his brother take in a shaky breath. "It happens sometimes Sam. It scares me but sometimes I do. Sometimes I do think the only way to stop it would be to end it. Once and for all." There it is. The admission. For once. The truth.

"Dean..."

"I know that the thought has always been there, ever since dad died, maybe even before. It's hidden somewhere in the back of my mind, like a shark waiting beneath the waves, ready to strike when I let my guard down, when I make one false move. But I never do. I'm always in control. I never act on those thoughts Sam. I never give in. Cuz I'm too strong for that right? And I always need to be strong. Can't show any weakness right? Isn't that what a good soldier does? Makes sure never to show the kink in their armour?" Pause. Deep breath. "I always keep those darkest thoughts and parts of me pushed down deep. Hell Sammy, you see it all the time. I make a joke, or grab a beer, or flirt with some chick in some bar in some town." Snort. "There was a time, and God it feels like decades ago, that I did all those things for the pure pleasure of it. For the fun. For the buzz. For the sex. For the freedom. But now? Well, now those things may be the only tethers keeping me grounded to this life. They help, you know? For those few minutes I feel like I am someone else. A normal person. Living a normal life. Just John 'Fricken' Doe out on the town, makin' jokes, drinkin' beer and gettin' lucky." Pause. Deep breath. "But it isn't for pleasure anymore Sammy. It's just a way to numb the noise in my head. To drown out the constant chaos that swirls around in my brain. Just enough of a time out for me to regain control and carry on like I always do." Sigh. "I never act on those thoughts Sammy. At least I never had until last night. And that is what scares the shit out of me. That, in a moment of weakness, when I wasn't thinking clearly, I acted on those thoughts." Dean sucks in a breath "If you wouldn't have been there Sammy," Dean stops in mid sentence and Sam sees his mouth quiver, "then you would be alone right now and I.." Eyes well up with more tears. "..I would be dead."

**TBC...**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi again! Just a continuation on from the last chapter. More sharing and caring. More heartbreak and hope. Ahhh... emotions, aren't they fun? I am just so grateful to all of you who have been keeping up with the story. Thank you so much! Keep those reviews coming, they are golden! :)**

If there was ever a time for some brotherly bonding this would definitely be at the top of the list. Time for some sort of physical connection to be made. Dean is so vulnerable right now, so lost in his thoughts, that he needs something to help him continue to stay in this moment, to be grounded, to feel the love of another human being. To know that life would never be the same, would hardly be worth it if he wasn't here to share in it. That he needs to stay. That Sam doesn't want him to go anywhere.

Sam gets up from his chair and kneels in front of Dean where he sits. "C'mon bro," he places a hand on his brother's knee and gives it a little squeeze. "you are still here. Still breathing, still alive. And I thank God that I was there last night and that you are still here with me now." Dean's eyes meet his younger brother's and Sam can see he is barely hanging on, as unrelenting tears continue to roll down his cheeks. The look on his face tells Sam everything. He sees all the emotions that Dean usually keeps in check, he sees on his face that he is going through all of them, seemingly all at once. "I know you aren't into this kind of touchy feely stuff but I think that I need as much as you do to feel connected to each other." And, with that, Sam reaches out, lifts his distraught brother into a standing position and embraces him in a humungous, yet of course manly type of hug.

Because this is Dean we are talking about here and this kind of thing is so utterly foreign to him, Sam, of course, feels him struggle weakly against this attempt to comfort him. "Shhh Dean, just relax. Just let yourself have this one thing, for this one moment. Please, let me be here for you. You don't have to carry all of this on your own anymore because you are not alone. It's just the two of us here, no one else needs to know. You can go back to being your cocky and arrogant self later. Let me do this for you. You need to know how important you are, and I need to know that you are here, that you are not going to go anywhere."

Dean continues to struggle against his 'captor'. "No S'm... so screwed up. don't deserve. tried to off myself for frick's sake! how can you want to be anywhere near me. please, let me go, I can't...I don't... I'm not... I'm..." Dean's exhaustion is evident to his little brother as he feels his strength lessen by even the mere formation of a few random and disjointed words. Sam can feel his struggles become more feeble with each passing second.

The younger brother doesn't budge, doesn't give in. He knows that what Dean longs for most in this life is to be loved. To be cared for. To be the one that means something to someone. Damn it Dean, you mean everything to ME! How can you think anything else? For once in your life, let yourself be on the receiving end of some comfort. Take a damned minute to realize that I do give a shit about you and that you DO matter! God, even when he is screwed up royally in the head he is still a pain in my ass!

"No Dean. No. You can not blame yourself for what happened. Take it from someone who was there, you were definitely NOT in your right mind so how do you figure you can take the blame? And even if you were rational last night, how can you say you don't deserve to be close to someone? To me? You need this bro and to be honest so do I. It should be obvious by now that constantly being the strong, stoic and silent type has its share of drawbacks Dean." Pause. "How can I explain to you how much you mean to me? How the thought of you not being here scares me to no end? How can I show to you how my life would forever be darkened if I was to lose you?" Pause. "So, i'm sorry Dean, but right now I need to be close to you, and that closeness happens to be in the form of a man-hug so I guess you'll just have to give in and hug me back damn it!" Sam lets a little chuckle come out. Man-Hug? What is that all about? Huh. I guess exhaustion is the name of the game right now.

Sam can feel Dean's attempts to free himself begin to falter, then fade to a slow trickle, and finally stop altogether. Sam remains as he is, prepared to be whatever the older Winchester needs him to be. Then it happens. Dean finally lets go and collapses into him, clawing at the back of Sam's shirt, as if it helps him believe his brother is really there. Sam keeps a firm hold around him, acting as the anchor that keeps him here, to this spot, to the two of them in this room right now, at this moment, to let Dean know that he is there, that it's okay to let Sam have his turn at being the strong and stoic one.

And then Sam hears it. The sound that seems so very unfamiliar to the younger of the brothers. Sobbing. Uncontrollable. Raw. Real. As Dean continues to let out all of his pain, anger, confusion, and raw emotions that have been put away for so very, very long, into his brother's chest, Sam feels his older brother's legs start to give way under the sheer weight of all those damned feelings. "Alright Dean, just hang on bro, I got ya." Sam prevents his brother from free falling to the floor and eases him into a semi-seated position on the carpet, his back against one of the chairs. "Just settle there for a minute." Sam reaches to grab the water bottle from the table, the beaten up, seen better days water bottle. Boy, Dean sure did a number on you huh? He opens it and hands it over to Dean who takes it with a quizzical look on his face. "Okay, listen Dean, finish that water up for me okay?" Sam watches as Dean downs the contents of the bottle in 0.5 seconds flat - well, give or take a second. "Good job." Sam looks up, places the bottle back on the table, and directs his eyes back onto his brother. His brother, who now seems to be listing to one side, eyes closed, on the verge of passing out cold right in front of him, right onto that putrid motel room type carpet. Probably not the best idea. "Dean?" Eyes flutter open for a brief moment and slide shut again. "Dean, you can't sleep here bro, let's get you somewhere more comfty." A soft grunt is the response that Sam gets and he figures he better move him now while he is semi sort-of still conscious. "Okay, up you come dude. Time for you to get some proper shut eye."

"stay here..comfty..tired..floor okay..leave me here..i'm okay..i'm fine..don't worry..sleep..now.." Now or never Sammy, he's totally out of it. Sam decides he just needs a bit more force to get his stubborn ass brother to move. "Dean, get up! Now!" Eyes fly open and look around wildly until they catch Sam's gaze and hold it. Oops, maybe a little forceful on that one. As Sam reaches his arm out to his brother, the younger Winchester emphasizes each word. "Get. Off. The. Floor." Dean grabs hold of the extended arm and, after a moment or two, Dean and Sam are both standing and making their way over to the bed. "You're doing great Dean, almost ready for a good night's...or I guess a good afternoon's sleep." Sam lowers his brother to the bed and is almost surprised at the ease in which Dean lets himself be manhandled and taken care of. Exhaustion can be a friend sometimes too I guess. Sam finishes up getting his brother settled, puts the covers over top of him and lets out a sigh. "Rest well Dean, you really have had one hell of a rollercoaster ride going around in that mind of yours haven't you?"

"S'mmy?"

"Yeah bro, i'm here. Try to sleep. You need to rest. I'll be here, don't worry."

"S'mmy. thanks. glad to still be here."

Sam feels his throat close up for a moment. Probably just one more comment like that away from a sobbing session of his own. "Yeah, me to Dean. More than you will ever know. So stop thinking Dean, you know it isn't good for that hard head of yours to do it this much. It is time to sleep now dude. Relax. I'll be here when you wake up, I'm not going anywhere."

"kay S'my... thanks... sleep... yeah... g'nite..." And with that Dean is once again silent.

Sam watches, perched like some kind of hawk, keeping an eye on things from above. He looks onto Dean's form until his big brother's breathing evens out and he even hears a sigh of what sounds like contentment. As Sam rubs his tired eyes he thinks that maybe they can. Maybe together the brother's can fix this afterall. All the emotions slam into Sam all at once. He's happy that Dean confided in him. He's angry that his brother didn't trust him enough to tell him how much he was hurting. He feels guilt that he somehow didn't clue into his brother's level of despair before it came to this. Again his anger starts to surface when he thinks about how Dean doesn't think he deserves anything good in his life. And finally he feels sick. He was so very close to losing his brother, and his brother would have never known how much he is truly cared for. It all gets to be a bit much for the younger brother and, after checking on Dean once again, he rushes into the bathroom and shuts the door. And its in that small room that he finally lets go of HIS feelings. It's his turn to let it all out. So Sam cries. And cries. And cries.

Having taken a few minutes to recover, Sam now looks at his reflection and begins to mutter to himself. "Why Dean? Why didn't you come to me sooner? Or come to me at all? Why do you insist on keeping all of this in? For it to come out like this? Well as much as you are going to wake up and sluff all this off as some sort of chick-flick moment, you had better realize that yes, this one night, it HAS changed everything. Whether you want to admit it or not, you are no longer the emotionless hard-ass that you have worked so long and hard to portray. Because, after this, I know different. And, I am not going to let things ever, ever get to this point again. You are not brushing this off big brother. We are not done with this. It has changed me. And you. And us. And that Dean, believe it or not, that is a very good thing."

**TBC...**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi again! Welcome to this latest edition of angsty-ness straight from my brain into the lives of those crazy Winchester kids. I hope you enjoy the read and feel free to comment or review, it is always wonderful to read your thoughts. Thanks again to all that have commented and as always, thanks for taking a look at what I have come up with to mess with the boys. Enjoy! :)**

Sam spends the next couple of hours sitting at the table, floating in a kind of mental fog. His eyes are cast frequently towards Dean's sleeping form, watching his movements, looking for any signs of distress from his brother. As nothing of note has happened other than what would be considered the ordinary nightly tossing and turning, Sam concludes that Dean must be in such a state of total and complete fatigue that even his mind has managed to finally shut off. Well, thank God for that. Maybe he can at least get some true form of rest.

As he begins to feel the warm pull of sleep calling to him as well, Sam feels reluctant and a bit anxious to end his watch, his vigil over his brother. But, the rational part of him speaks loud and clear, and tells him he won't do himself or his brother any good if he is half out of it and suffering sleep deprivation. Just in case Dean needs him he wants to be alert, with his mind nice and clear. So, with his rational voice pulling the strings, Sam takes the steps which lead him to the empty bed beside Dean's, and he falls asleep above the covers, clothes still intact, in what seems to be a matter of mere seconds.

The first of his senses that comes into play in the youngest Winchester as he starts to wake is that of smell. The unmistakable, delectable, mouth watering aroma of bacon. Bacon? His stomach grumbles in anticipation as Sam's nose take a deep breath in, savouring the recently unfamiliar scent of actual food. While he tries to figure out whether this is just some kind of very real-smelling dream, Sam knows in a heartbeat that it is in fact reality when the sound of his brother confirms it. He slowly opens his eyes, blinks away the remnants of sleep and scans the room for Dean.

When he finds him he is then greeted by a bright and chipper version of the Dean from the night before, complete with his famous ear to ear and all teeth kind of grin. "Sheesh bro, it's about time. I thought I was gonna have to eat all this delicious grub by my lonesome so it wouldn't go to waste. It would be a challenge but I think I could do it. Waste not, want not, right Samantha? And besides, when I woke up I felt like I hadn't eaten for a fricken week!" Pause. "Hmm, on second thought, you still look really, really tired Sam. Woah, you need to get rid of those bags under your eyes. I know, why don't you lie back down Sleeping Beauty and catch some more Z's? I'll make sure and leave you a leaf of lettuce or something. That is still your favourite food group right? Leafy greens?" Another smile from his brother and then Sam actually hears a laugh. An honest to goodness, real Dean laugh come from his brother and he finds he feels both relieved and also a bit disappointed. It's nice, really nice to see and hear that his older brother has regained some of that spring and some of that sarcasm back in his step but that also means he is working overtime to rebuild those stupid, idiotic walls of his.

"How long you been up Dean? How long have I been asleep?" Looking towards the window, Sam notices that the world outside, beyond the confines of the motel room, has once again been plunged into darkness. So, he's been out of it for several hours. No wonder he feels rejuvenated and re-energized. Sleep is definitely a good thing. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Ah, c'mon Sam, how could I wake you up when you were so cute, all curled up in your blankie, resting so nicely with your thumb placed firmly in your mouth?" An enormous, almost unbelievable grin flashes onto Dean's face. So proud of yourself huh? This can only mean one thing. Great. Those walls are almost running at their peak efficiency. Damn it. Even so, Sam can't help but put aside his concerns for a fleeting moment as he feels an overwhelming opportunity in Dean's latest attempt to goad him. Sam has always enjoyed the back and forth banter that the brothers share and Dean has just slipped him an opening, a chance that is just too damn good to pass up, no matter what else is going on. Sam goes for it.

"Hold on, just wait a minute there Dean. I know for a FACT that when I laid down I was ABOVE the covers. So, the only logical conclusion I can come to, if you actually found me in such a cute and cozy position as you just stated, is that when you got up you came over and covered me up. Did you? Cover me up? Tuck me in all comfty and cozy like? Maybe even laid a gentle kiss on my brow too?" Sam in rewarded just as he wanted to be, with a look of pure horror. Awesome dude, just what I needed. "You did, didn't you? Awww... aren't you just the sweetest, most thoughtful and considerate big brother in the whole wide world?" Pause. "Don't dish it out if you can't take it bro. Anyway, back to it, you still should have woke me up."

"What for exactly? You obviously needed the sleep Sam so I got up and just enjoyed a little time in complete silence. Just for a little while. Then I sat around and watched some lame paranormal documentary on the boob tube. Did you know that there MAY actually be documented proof of specific cases which could substantiate certain radical claims out there that ghosts are real?." Oh, Dean is getting agitated and his face is starting to turn an ugly and most unfriendly shade of rage, oops, I mean shade of red. "WOW! I'm surprised that you didn't wake up Sam when I fell off my chair from the pure shock of that revelation!" Okay, Dean's mood has changed. Fast. Sam can hardly keep up with it as his big brother rambles on, and Sam watches, mesmerized as Dean walks over to and actually starts shouting at the television set. "IDIOTS! Of course ghosts are real! Oh, and hears a big newsflash for you, drum roll please for this one. Demons are real! DUMBASSES! And monsters are real! And guess what else? Are you sitting down because this one's a doozie. HELL! IS! REAL!"

Sam can almost hear it. The sudden halt of those machines. Those machines that had been so busy just what, like maybe two or three minutes ago, busily working at a steadfast pace in their effort to reconstruct Dean's protective barrier. Those machines have just stopped. Cold. "DEAN!"

His older sibling stops, turns and faces him. "Yeah Sammy? What's going on? Hey, I'm good. No trouble. Don't worry. You worry way too much dude. I'm fine. You know me, I'm always fine. It's just I can't stand people who are total and complete.." His focus drifts back to the TV. "..MORONS!" With a final salute to the television of the middle finger variety, Dean saunters back towards the table but feels the need to point out yet another injustice that is being inflicted on the world. One that must be addressed. "And really, what's with the term Boob Tube anyway Sam? I mean c'mon people! Have you even seen the shit programs of TV these days? No good shots of healthy boobage anywhere to be seen! And you know, I am somewhat of an expert on this subject so believe me when I say that I have looked and there just aren't any boobs! Sheesh! Hey, I know, maybe we should change the name. Yeah, The Boobless Tube or something. At least that would be accurate. What ya think Sammy?"

"Uh, well. Sure Dean, sure. The Boobless Tube. Make sense I guess right?" Unlike you right at the moment bro. "Maybe you should suggest that."

"Yeah, or, better yet, maybe we could start our very own channel. The Boob Tube Channel - All boobs, all the time!" Laughs. "Huh, great idea! Maybe I should try my hand at showbiz!"

Okay, Sam just feels unsure. Has Dean had another short circuit with this boob thing or is he just back to his babbling, joking, trying to avoid any actual kinds of conversation tactic? Has he flipped out or are those machines off in the distance starting to reboot, coming back online? Sam just can't tell.

Dean turns his attention back to his meal and Sam comes over and takes the seat across from him. Sam watches his brother as he chows down, no wait, make that as he devours and seems to inhale the burger he has, a burger that seems of staggering proportions. Dean doesn't look up or acknowledge Sam's arrival, he just seems to be focused on the burger in his hand. Actually, what? Does he actually have his eyes closed while he's eating. And another thing, is he even chewing? The sight just seems weird to the younger brother but even so, at least Dean is actually getting some sort of nourishment into his system. The hunger in Sam's gut gets the better of him and he grabs the bag on his side of the table and digs in.

Sam revels in the taste of it. Yes, it's true, he is more of a leafy greens type of guy but he has to admit, when your body craves the taste and satisfaction of food, Dean is so right about the total awesomeness of a quality burger. And God, this burger has quality written all over it. Bite after delicious bite, Sam enjoys every moment with his burger. As he continues on, he eyes his brother looking at him across the table. Dean just stares at him. "Wha?" Sam tries to get a reaction out of his brother and thinks maybe he is just overreacting because of recent events. "Do I got some burger sauce on my face or somethin'?" Silence. "Dean?"

"Are you almost done Sammy?"

"Yeah, almost bro. You sure were right about this burger, I can see why you would have wanted to keep mine for yourself too. They are totally awesome dude!" Sam emphasizes his last word with his own beaming smile.

"I'm glad. Anyway, I was thinking. Isn't it about time we got back on the road? huh?" Sam notices that Dean's leg is starting to bounce up and down. "I feel like maybe I would like to go, go find some evil son of a bitch and kill it. Yeah, I think that would be good. You in? Wanna go kill something?"

"Uh, well, I thought since it was so late and also since it is pitch black outside, that we could just rest another night here and then get going in the morning? I think you still need to rest your head and your side and I am still feeling a bit worn out. Plus, after I finish this burger I don't think I will be moving fast enough to chase some evil son of a bitch down and be able to kill it. Besides, we don't even have a line on one of these evil creatures yet right?" Pause. "Can you wait until the morning?" Silence. "Are you okay Dean? Will you please just talk to me and tell me what's wrong?" Burger forgotten, Sam leans forward on the table to get closer to his brother. Hmm, dejavu or what?

"Just wanna keep movin Sammy. Can't stay still. Always have to be on the move, don't like staying in the same spot for too long. You know, it's almost like they can find me when I stop. If I stay too long. It always happens when we stay in one place for too long, away from the action, away from the constant motion of travelling to the next hunt. They can hone in on my mind or something you know. Feed the worst images into it without having to touch me or having to wait until I'm asleep. They know I'm here now Sam. We've been here to long. I can't stay here any more. We gotta go. Please. Gotta get moving."

"Who are you talking about Dean? Who knows you're here?"

"It's the demons Sam. The demons. They know I am here and they've started it. It's already started. They are already making me see things, things that I know aren't real but they just bombard the images over and over and over in my mind until I can't figure out what is the truth and what is the nightmare. But, if I keep busy, keep on the move, my mind on other things then they can't track me down, they can't get to me. Please, we have to leave. NOW!"

"Just a minute Dean. Please just tell me one thing. What is it that they made you see. Tell me, what is it?"

Dean starts to gag.

**TBC...**


	18. Final Chapter

**Hi everyone! Okay, this is it! THIS is the FINAL chapter! I really, really hope that you enjoy it after you have stuck with me for this long. I would really love to hear some reviews of the story as a whole if you feel so inclined. If not, hey, no worries! :) I am hoping that sometime I may delve into another Dean&Sam saga, I do love this angsty stuff so! Thanks again for all your support, your kind words and lovely reviews! Thanks and I hope that you enjoy the ending of this one particular journey! THANK YOU !**

The eldest brother continues to gag and just as Sam is about to head over to him to try to help somehow, he darts towards the bathroom. As Sam follows behind he can hear the sound of Dean retching, emptying the contents of his stomach, of his delicious burger, into the porcelain below. Great, so much for getting and keeping some food in you bro. As he peers into the room, Sam can see that his brother is now dry heaving as he shakily holds the sides of the toilet. Another minute goes by and then Dean rises up, heads to the sink, rinses out his mouth and splashes some water on his face.

"Better?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good Sam. Damn burger." Snicker. "So what you say Sammy? Time to hit the road?"

"Why don't you explain to me what just happened. And please, don't insult me by saying nothing."

"Uh, what can I say? You saw it right? Ate my burger too fast. Not enough room in the gut to keep it all so it decided to get rid of it. As simple and disgusting as that little brother. All better now, not gonna spew anymore."

"Oh, okay, if you say so. Well, your little upchucking scene must have tired you out a bit huh? So, I guess we better get back to bed, get some shut eye and then head out in the morning right?"

Fear. That's what Sam sees on his brother's face. Fear. But his brother really is the master because the fear is only there for a split second. If he would have blinked at that exact moment, Sam would have missed it altogether. As the younger Winchester continues to watch, he sees the look of fear be replaced by one of those patented Dean smirks, but not the 'real' smile that was shown there earlier. This one is merely a fragment, a piece of his wall shining through.

"No Sam. We should leave now. C'mon bro, you and me? The two amigos back out on the open road, travelling the exciting backroads of the USA? Can't stay in limbo for too long, where's the adventure? Where's the fun in that? You don't want to stay here too long and wake up one morning and discover that you have turned into some boring old man do ya?" Dean rushes past his brother and starts towards the main room, grabbing his gear in his hands as he flies around the room.

Sensing that his brother is on the verge of some kind of episode, Sam decides he'll give in. They'll leave, but these 'two amigos' are going to have a long, long talk as they head back out on the open road. The youngest brother has an inkling as to what is going on. Sure, his brother has been to hell and back... literally. But the demons, those demons that he speaks of, the ones that invade his waking mind, they are ones that Dean has conjured up himself. When his brain and mind and body are at rest, when he sits still just for a day, his own mind is making him suffer. It isn't an actual demon that haunts him, it's his own guilt over what he has done, both on earth and down under. Yes, need to have a very long talk.

"Okay Dean, okay. We can go. You finish packing up our things and I'll go sign us out."

"Awesome! Thanks Sammy! You are the best! So, what you waiting for princess, get your ass in gear already, time is a wasting!" And with that Dean continues on but now he has a huge, wide perma-grin planted on him. God, it's like he's brothers with a damned Yo-yo! Up and down, back and forth. Sam heads out and now starts to share his brother's urgency to leave. He's starting to feel like this motel itself is cursed.

As Sam heads back towards their room after taking care of business at the motel's office, he sees Dean, leaning up against the back of the Impala, staring off into the field beyond, his leg twitching like its crawling with ants. He really wants, and I guess needs to get outta here.

"Okay, all set Dean, we can go." The older Winchester stays rooted to the spot, doesn't move, just continues to keep his stare into that field.

"Sammy? Do you see that? Over there in the woods?" Sam follows the point of his brother's finger as he makes his way to where Dean stands. Nothing. Sam sees absolutely nothing but some woods, some trees, just hanging out in the field, nothing out of place, nothing unusual. Certainly nothing that would lead someone to wear the kind of petrified out of my mind look which his brother is sporting at the moment. So, Sam can't see anything, but what in the world does his big brother see?

Sam doesn't want to startle his brother so he uses a gentle voice to speak with him. "I don't see anything Dean. There is nothing there but trees."

"Whew, that's good news. I don't know what we would have done if that..." a distinctive point "...if THAT was actually real." Shakes his head in relief. "Damn demons, they almost had me going again." Chuckle. "I mean where would we start? Who would we have time to save? Someone? No one? It's a good thing we won't even have to try."

"I don't see anything bro but it is kinda obvious that YOU do. So, let's have it Dean. What do YOU see over there?"

"Me? Don't see anything either Sammy. I was just foolin with ya, you know? Just a test. And you passed with flying colours bro." Dean claps his brother on the shoulder. "Well done."

Sam sighs, comes to stand in front of his brother and grasps both his shoulders and looks him straight in the eyeball. "Sorry man, not buying the act. You are freaked out by something right now. By something you saw. Can't hide from me anymore, you have spilled way to much. So, I KNOW that you are seeing something over there. Out with it Dean. What?"

Dean gulps and looks at his feet. "Oh, you know Sammy, the usual stuff." His gaze then lands on the exact spot he was pointing at just moments ago. "Fire. It's all on fire. Burning. Souls. Burning. They are in that field, on fire, burning, screaming. I can see them. Staring at me from a distance as they burn. As they scream. on fire. always. burning. screaming..." Dean's eyes are transfixed on that damned field and Sam can feel his brother's mind being sucked right into his hallucination. His older brother is starting to pant as he stares blankly, terrified but also mesmerized by the scene playing out in his mind.

"DEAN!" Sam stands right in front of his brother's face to obscure the field from his view. He cups Dean's face in his palm and tilts it to bring his eyes away from the sight which is consuming him to meet his younger brother's face instead. "Dean, come back. Listen to me. There is no fire. Nothing is burning. You and I are safe. We are just hanging out by the Impala getting ready to head back out on the road remember? Right, the two amigos?" Dean blinks and the cloudiness once evident in his eyes slowly clears, and Sam knows he is once again with him on this journey he likes to call reality.

"Yeah, I know Sammy. Not real. Got it. Can we leave now?" Sam nods and as Dean pushes off from the Impala, his younger brother notices him take one more long, unwavering gaze into that damned field. Yeah, time to go.

Odd. No fight over who gets to drive Dean's baby? The only conclusion Sam can reach is that his brother is definitely not in the all the way better, or maybe not even in the almost getting to be almost better in his head category yet. The Impala. When Dean is at the top of his game there is no way he would letter his baby brother drive. Can't wait for that day to come again. And soon.

Sam and Dean lapse into a pretty comfortable silence, Sam gazing at the road ahead and his brother gazing anywhere but outside into the fields that blanket each side of the roadway. As Sam starts to contemplate the events of the past day he feels like his temper ramps up a notch. He knows that Dean is still exhausted and hurting and not quite right in the head yet but he needs to let some stuff out. Maybe it's better if he starts off now instead of waiting until it builds and builds and then has some kind of explosion. Neither of the brothers would come out unscathed if that was to occur. So, what should Sam start off with in this conversation. Yeah, he knows.

"So Dean?" He glances over and sees his older brother looking at him. "Just how long has this sort of thing been happening to you? And, let me be really clear cuz right at this moment I am not in the mood for any of your evasive bullcrap. I want to know how long you have been seeing things, while you're awake, like what you just saw outside the motel? How long has this been going on for?"

"C'mon Sam, we're both tired and obviously as least ONE of us is Mr. Crankypants so can't this wait until later? Maybe sometime WAY later?" Well, the anger is now bubbling up in his veins and if Sam doesn't let a little bit out he really will explode. Hold on!

"NO DEAN! GOD! I have just about had enough! You have no idea what all of this is doing to me! You are all over the place. I don't know which Dean I am going to be talking to from one minute to the next, you change at the drop of a hat! So please, HUMOUR ME! Do this for ME! Because I asked! Because I care about you, I am worried about you and just how the hell am I supposed to do one thing to help you if you can't even answer one simple FRICKEN question when I ask it? GOD! You are such an ASS sometimes Dean!" Hmm. That felt pretty good. Damn, here comes the guilt again. Before Sam can whisper a half-apology to his brother he feels the glare before he sees it and knows he is himself about to get torn a new one.

"JESUS CHRIST SAM! Relax man! FINE! You want to know the truth, you want to be HUMOURED? OKAY THEN! You FRICKEN asked for this!" Pause. "Remember a while back Sam when I went for a trip? Well, in case it's a bit foggy for you let me refresh your memory. I took a trip down under. And no silly, I am NOT talking about AUSTRALIA! That would have been nice though. But anyways, remember? When I WENT TO HELL SAM? Yeah, I know, such an easy thing to forget about but believe me it happened, I got mauled up by a hellhound and ended up in the pit." Pause. "Well, I was miraculously brought back, who knows why, really, but I digress. So, I came back, had some nightmares, some flashbacks, and thought that I could handle it, you know like I ALWAYS DO! I was trying to protect everyone that I care about from the darkness that consumed me while I was on my 'vacation' so I just suffered alone. Sure, I talked about it a bit but never REALLY talked about it. You know, left out all the goriest of the gory and such. You know why Sam? TO PROTECT YOU FROM IT! Because, believe it or not I CARE ABOUT YOU! And I NEVER wanted you to know ANYTHING of the details of that awful place!"

Sam isn't sure how he feels. He is about to say something but as he turns to glance at his brother, Dean holds up his hand to him as a warning, a message that his big brother is just not quite done yet.

As he starts up, Sam can tell his brother's anger has subsided, replaced by palpable pain. "But you're right Sammy. Yeah, you are. There is something wrong with my head. And yes, I do see things. I have ever since I came back. Every so often, usually when we were having some down time. You know, maybe, heaven - ha, I mean Hell forbid, doing something remotely resembling fun it would happen in an instant. At a pool hall, we would be having a game one minute, the next minute the whole bar would be ablaze, including YOU Sammy, but you'd just keep on playing and talking to me so I knew it couldn't be real. I mean really Sam, if it was real I don't think you would be able to play or talk to me while all of your skin melted away from your body." Pause.

"Dean..." oops, sorry, still not done I guess as the hand comes up once again. Sam pulls of the highway and stops the car. He turns to face his brother, to look at him while all of this pours out of him.

"Don't you get it Sammy? I didn't want you to EVER know. This is something that is inside me. Demon of mine. Of what I've done. There is no reason for you to get pulled down into that fricken pit too bro. It's okay Sam, I have learned to live with it. I'm just sorry that you ended up having to witness it first hand this past little while. I just didn't. I didn't want you to know."

"Dean, please, you need to listen to me for a minute now okay?" Sam receives a nod from his brother. "First of all, I want you to tell me whatever you feel you want or need to tell me. I'm not asking for every gory detail Dean but I need you to trust me. You need to start to let me know when you see these things. I can help. I can. Earlier, at the motel, when you saw the burning of that field, I was there, I helped you come back from the images in your mind to the here and now. I can do that for you Dean. Maybe we won't be able to stop these visions of yours altogether or even stop them from happening at all, but we can at least deal with them, together."

Dean's eyes look into his brother's. And Sam sees it. Wow, he didn't think it was possible but it's almost like he can actually see the light that has finally gone on in that thick, stubborn skull of his older brother. Yeah, he finally gets it. Finally, Dean is starting to understand. He doesn't have to let everything out, he doesn't have to share all the horrors of his darkest secrets. But, he can share some of his pain, some of the demons that haunt him. He can tell Sam about them when they happen. Before it comes to this.

"Together huh? Yeah, Sammy, I think I can do that. I think that will help. Thanks bro, for everything." Pause. Well, that's all the misty-eyed crap that is forthcoming from the older brother at this particular moment. "Now, let's get moving because I don't know about you but I am starving over here!" Dean glances once more into his brother's eyes and Sam can feel the love, the trust, the care, the special connection to each other that they share, all sown up in just that one look. And, most of all, he feels some kind of peace. For both of them. The journey of course will still be a long one and because they are Winchesters it will be tough and filled with more emotional upheaval he is sure, but right now, Sam feels content and satisfied that his brother will come to him for help when he really needs it.

"C'mon, let's get going. Bitch..." And with that, Sam hears the faint hum of the machines again, construction of those walls has begun.

"Alright alright, we're going. Jerk." But, as Sam stars up the Impala and heads back out onto the open road, he knows those walls are no where near as tall or as strong as they were when this latest hunt began.

Sam takes one more glance at his brother and is sure, that in that moment, both of the Winchester boys are wearing the exact same, ear-to-ear cheshire grin that looks and feels so damn good.

**THE END.**


End file.
